


Not To Disappear

by Hideous_Sun_Demon



Series: Not To Disappear [1]
Category: Designated Survivor (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, PTSD, Tom Kirkman being a Dad, Torture, Trauma Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13286883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hideous_Sun_Demon/pseuds/Hideous_Sun_Demon
Summary: Seth knew that there were risks that came with being the Press Secretary. He never expected this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely self-indulgent, and very evil. I love Seth Wright, so he must suffer.
> 
> Timeline note: this is set around a year after Alex’s death. So yes, she is still dead in this fic. Sorry guys.
> 
> Shout out to MeredithBrody for inspiring this monstrosity.

Pain was the first thing Seth registered.

He had a headache, a splitting pain that rolled over him in waves as he fought his way out of unconsciousness. Even with his eyes closed he could tell he was slumped down on an unforgiving stone floor, leaning against a wall. Seth hadn’t woken in a state like this since his party days at Harvard. But no, that couldn’t be right. He didn’t go out drinking last night, surely? He couldn’t remember...

As he shifted his weight, trying to force his heavy eyelids open to see exactly where he‘d ended up, Seth felt the the bite of metal against his wrists, which he now realised were awkwardly pinned behind his back. He was handcuffed.

Seth’s eyes snapped open, headache forgotten. He was in a barren room, only four walls and an imposing metal door opposite him. The sole light source was a dimly lit fluorescent bulb on the ceiling. Seth twisted his head around, confirming his suspicions. He was in handcuffs, the lengthy chain looping around an iron bar that was set into the wall just above his head. Sick fear washed over him, as cold as the metal around his wrists. This was a kidnapping, no doubt about it. He strained his head, trying to remember how he’d gotten here, but the dull pain in his head sent his thoughts spiralling. He’d been walking home from the station, right? They’d been able to leave at a reasonable time for once, so he’d caught the train, and was heading home from the station, when-

-“Seth Wright?” a voice had called out from behind him. Seth paused in his steps reluctantly; he was just outside his apartment, and the last thing he wanted to do tonight was run circles around some nosy reporter who didn’t know boundaries. Deciding it would be better to just get it over with than try and ignore the guy, he’d swivelled around, making sure his annoyance was clear on his face. “Can I help you?” he’d asked, and the man had given him a hard smile, devoid of any warmth. Before Seth could even question it, he felt a sting in his neck, and his knees buckled. Two strong arms grabbed him from behind, and he looked blearily up at the first man. “Yes, Mr Wright, I believe you can,” he’d replied. He couldn’t get a single word out before his entire world had slipped into darkness.

He’d been drugged. That explained why he felt like he was nursing the world’s biggest hangover. Seth squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clamp down on the panic quickly threatening to take over. He had to keep a cool head about this. People would notice that he was gone- he was the White House Press Secretary after all- and there’d be people looking for him. How long had he been here? There were no windows in his cell, so he couldn’t even tell if it was still the same day. Out of instinct he tried to reach for his phone, but, of course, it’d been taken. Probably smashed.

Fuck.

There was a sudden shuffling outside, and Seth’s nerves were alight with fear as he heard the click of the door being unlocked. It swung open to reveal two men wearing grey balaclavas. One of them was holding a video camera and tripod. The other was holding a gun. His heart rate rocketed at the sight of the weapon- this was real, this was really happening- but he tried to keep his cool. Maybe he could talk to them. Talking was his job.

“Why are you doing this?” Seth croaked, impressed despite himself at how little his voice shook. The two men ignored him in favour of setting up the tripod, so Seth tried again, louder this time. “Hey, listen, this really isn’t a good idea. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourselves into. It’d be better for you- better for all of us- if you just...let me go.” The man with the gun actually glanced up at this, a reptilian smile visible through his mask, and Seth recognised him with a sudden jolt as the man who’d approached him on the street. Seth’s blood ran cold.

“We’re good to go,” the other man said, and the guy with the gun nodded brusquely, striding over to where Seth was chained to the wall. “Alright, enough yapping,” he instructed, and pressed the cold barrel of the gun against Seth’s temple. He froze at the touch. The camera man flashed the gunman a quick thumbs up, and he began to speak.

“This is a message,” he began, “to the President of the United States, and to the entirety of the United States government. We’ve suffered under your tyrannical ministrations for too long, and so we’re taking a stand. This is our retribution. You’ll pay the ultimate price.” The barrel dug into Seth’s skin, and he realised with a dull horror that this was an execution video. “Please,” he spoke up again, no longer caring if his voice trembled, “please. You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to-listen to me. Goddamnit, listen to me!“ His voice had reached a near shriek, words running into each other as his panicked breaths became more and more ragged, but the man simply spoke over him. Seth opened his mouth again, tried to think of something else to say, but there was nothing. His tongue wouldn’t cooperate with him. He was going to die here, on this cold concrete floor, chained to a wall. Numbly he realised that there were words coming out of his mouth, but nothing directed at his captors. Seth was praying- he hadn’t done that in a long time. Good a time as ever, he thought hysterically. Maybe it’ll pay off when the bullet finally comes.

The man had been addressing the camera this entire time, but now he looked down at Seth. “Any last words?” he asked, voice oozing mockery. Seth didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. He was frozen in place, muscles sealed with cement. He let his eyes slip closed. The gun shifted slightly, pressed in further, Seth heard the click, and-

Nothing.

All the air he’d been holding in billowed out in an explosion as Seth gasped for breath, gulping in as much stale air as he could. He sagged against the chain holding him, nose nearly touching the floor as his body was racked by helpless quaking. He was alive, he was alive, he was-

Dumbly, he realised that the man above him was laughing. Seth heard another click as the man slid the magazine out and waved it in front of Seth’s eyes. “Empty,” he chuckled. In a second, Seth felt the man’s fingers dig into his hair, and he felt himself being wrenched up to sit upright. He yelped in pain, but was ignored. The captor’s voice was a hoarse growl in his ear. “You play along, or next time it won’t be. Got it?” Seth nodded dazedly, and his hair was released. “Good.”

The captor turned back to the camera. “We’ll cut that. Now for the real show.” He cleared his throat. “I am speaking directly to the President of the United States, Tom Kirkman. As you can see, we have your Press Secretary, Seth Wright. And you’ll see him again real soon if you fulfil our demand- it’s quite simple.” The man’s voice took on an angry edge as he continued, and Seth shrank away slightly. “Lieutenant Jesse Kerrin is being held in federal prison unjustly by your government. He’s a good man- a goddamn hero- and you’ve let him rot away for five years. We demand that you pardon and release him immediately. Or else,” he continued, jabbing Seth in the head with the gun, “Mr Wright here bites a bullet.” Seth felt a shudder run through him at the words.

“You have four days- and that’s being generous. I know how you bureaucrats like to dither over decisions. But if Lieutenant Kerrin isn’t a free man by then, I’ll be making the decision for you.” The man paused for a long, dramatic moment, and when he began talking again, Seth felt terror run down his spine.

“In the meantime, don’t think that Mr Wright will get to sit comfortably. No, no, your government has caused us unimaginable pain and suffering, and I think it’s time I got my pound of flesh. Consider this motivation for speedy progress.” The man chuckled darkly, and Seth felt his head begin to shake desperately, urging him to not do what Seth suspected he was going to do. “Watch closely, Mr President, and know that everything that happens now is up to you.”

The man tossed the unloaded gun to the corner of the room, far out of Seth’s feeble reach and loomed over him, a mountain of pure muscle. “Please,” Seth breathed, “please don’t-“

He’d expected the blow, but Seth still reeled from the pain emanating from his jaw. The next punch knocked him to the floor, and Seth curled in on himself as a flurry of kicks rained down on him, hitting his chest and sucking the air right out of him. Seth cried out in pain as a blow landed on his gut, and he thrashed with his legs, desperately trying to knock the guy off balance, hurt him, anything to make him stop. His flails only seemed to energise him, however, and he let out a growl as he winded Seth once more. There was a sudden lull in the beating, and Seth twisted his head desperately to see what his tormentor was doing. He was unhooking something from his belt, and Seth recognised the small black contraption as a taser before it lit up and agony coursed through him.

This was worse, far worse, than the beating. Seth’s body arched against his restraints as the shock lit up all the nerves in his body, muscles spasming in helpless jolts. He couldn’t even scream- he just let out some awful choking gurgle as he writhed. The pain finally stopped, and Seth managed to suck in one heaving breath- stabbing pain shooting through his chest- before the taser went off again. This time, though, the pain only lasted a few seconds. He could hear faintly, under the whimpers slipping uncontrollably from his mouth, the other man by the camera. “That’s enough,” he warned. 

His tormentor huffed in annoyance. “What are you talking about? He’s fine.”

“If you want to keep him alive, then you have to go easier. That’s enough.”

A moment of silence, then, “fine.” Seth let out a sigh of relief, shuddering against the cool stone floor. Vaguely, he wondered what he must look like to the camera, slack against the ground, a puddle of some blood-saliva mixture forming on the concrete beneath his mouth, but at this point he didn’t care. All that mattered was that it was over. The man said something else to the camera, but all Seth could hear was his own ragged breathing and the haywire thumping of his heart. Finally, finally, Seth heard the door slam closed and the lock click into place- they were gone.

Seth allowed himself a few more moments of respite, but he couldn’t ignore the pain. He was no doctor, but Seth recognised broken ribs when he felt them. Every breath was like shards of glass digging into his lungs. Aside from that, his entire body felt like one large bruise, from his jaw to where he’d been kicked in the stomach. The spots where the taser barbs had dug into his flesh burned- he wondered dully if there’d be marks. Lying motionless aside from the irregular rise and fall of his chest, Seth went over what his captor had said. He was being held ransom. He had four days to live. The memory of those words was terrifying, but Seth tried to think logically through the fear. The President would never make a deal with terrorists, yes, but he’d also never leave Seth here to die. He’d try everything in his power- and the man had a lot- to get him home safely. Seth had seen the man work near miracles during the two and a half years they’d worked together, Tom Kirkman was going to save him, Seth was certain of that.

His hopeful thoughts were banished as Seth heard the click of the door being unlocked once more, and he looked up in horror as the door swung open. No, no, no. Not again. He couldn’t take any more. Seth struggled to press himself even tighter against the wall as the man walked in- but, Seth realised after a second, it wasn’t the man with the gun- his form was shorter, skin visible under the mask darker. It was the man with the camera, except this time he was carrying nothing but a bottle of water. They locked eyes warily, and the man held his hands out placatingly, approaching Seth as though he were a wounded animal. He knelt down a few steps away from Seth, making sure he had a good view of the loaded holster at his hip, and placed the bottle on the ground. “Sit up,” he murmured, voice gruff but surprisingly gentle. He gingerly reached out, supporting his shoulders as Seth heaved himself of the floor. A guttural whine escaped him, and Seth had to squeeze his eyes shut against the fissure of pain that shot through him. When he opened them again, the man had unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and was offering it to him.

Seth swallowed roughly, viciously reminded of how parched his mouth was, but he wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of taking water from a guy who’d kidnapped him and filmed his torture. The guy sensed his hesitation, because he pointedly took a sip before offering it once more. “Drink this, you need to stay hydrated. No point poisoning it anyway. We need you alive, remember?” Thirst won out over fear, and Seth let the man hold the bottle to his lips as he sucked down the water. The liquid spilt down his chin, stinging his split lip, but it soothed his aching throat. After a few moments the man pulled it away, and Seth coughed from his overenthusiastic drinking, wincing as his ribs throbbed. The man placed the bottle down and began reaching for his face. Seth jerked away with a pounding heart, but the guy fixed him with a stern look. “Let me, I’m a doctor.” Hesitantly, Seth allowed him to examine his face, running his hands down his form to his ribs and probing gently, stopping when Seth hissed in protest.

“Why-why are you doing this?” He murmured haltingly.

“Keeping you here or helping you now?” The man replied, eyes fixed on Seth’s bloodied face.

“Both.”

The guy sighed. “Well, you heard our demand. As for why we chose you specifically..you’re the face of the government. And a lot easier to get to than any of the higher-ups.” A look of what almost looked like regret shone in the man’s eyes. “And I’m helping you now because....I’m doing what I need to do here. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Seth latched on to that look on the man’s eyes. “If you don’t like it,” he urged, desperation colouring his voice, “then help me. Please, man, just...just help me get out of here.”

The guy’s eyes hardened and he stood abruptly, taking the water with him. “I can’t do anything about this, so don’t even bother asking,” he said. “You aren’t hurt too badly, you’ll be fine. Just hope that your people release the lieutenant soon.” He turned to leave, but swivelled back around, fixing Seth with a gaze that made him tense. “Don’t try anything stupid,” he warned, “or there’ll be consequences.” He made a gesture to the gun in his belt. Seth eyed it critically, remembering the empty click of the last gun. 

“I thought you needed me alive,” Seth shot back, defiant through the fear that had been choking him since the moment he woke up here.

The man inclined his head. “We do,” he agreed, “but once Williams is done with you, you’re going to wish you weren’t.”

The door swung closed behind him, the click of the lock ringing out like a gun being cocked in the silence.


	2. Chapter 2

Emily had no idea where Seth was, and she was starting to get very annoyed. They were well into their day at the White House and he was absent with no explanation- no phone calls or anything. In fact, he wouldn’t even answer his phone when Emily tried to call him. And she had, many times, leaving increasingly frustrated voice messages in her wake. It wasn’t like Seth at all, and she felt a niggling worry rising under her irritation. He’d seemed pretty normal the night before, she thought. Had he said anything? In all honesty, Emily had been keeping contact with Seth purely professional sine they broke up last month- it was just too much to deal with, and she had to put her job before her emotions. But surely, even with her attention otherwise diverted, she’d have noticed if one of her subordinates was acting off.

Kendra and Lyor fell into step beside her as they made their usual way to the Oval Office. Lyor seemed frazzled, and before she could even open her mouth, he cut in. “Where’s Seth?” He demanded, and Emily sighed internally, the kernel of worry growing. So he didn’t know either. “Actually, I was about to ask you both that.” 

Kendra raised an eyebrow questioningly, and Lyor’s eyes seemed to bulge alarmingly out of his head. “You mean you don’t know? He’s your boyfriend, don’t you have a tracker on him or something?” 

“Ex boyfriend,” Emily corrected, shooting him a warning look, and he held up his hands in surrender. “I need him here,” he continued, only slightly more measured than before, “there’s a press briefing-“

“I know, Lyor,” Emily interrupted, “and I’ll handle it, alright?”

Lyor fell into agitated silence, and Emily turned to Kendra instead. “He didn’t say anything to you did he?” she asked, trying not to let any concern slip into her voice, “last night. Anything about where he could be?” 

“Not that I can recall,” Kendra said with a frown. Seth had been spending far more time with Kendra recently, Emily had noticed. If she didn’t know where he could be...she was at a loss.

The worry continued to brew inside as they entered the Oval Office. The President stood up to greet them with a smile, but his expression twisted into one of confusion when he noticed who was missing. “Where’s Seth?” he asked Emily, brow creased. Emily took in a deep breath. “He’s....not here, sir.” Tom’s face morphed further into worry at her words. “Is he alright?”

Before Emily could begin to say that she didn’t have a clue, she was interrupted by Aaron barging through the door. Everyone’s head snapped around to face him, but Aaron had his gaze fixed on Tom. “Mr President, we have a situation,” he began. Aaron, as always, was a pinnacle of professionalism, but there was something in his eyes, a flicker of worry, that made the uneasiness in Emily’s chest flourish. Aaron continued, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes flickered from Emily back to the President. “It’s..about Seth, sir.”

Emily’s stomach plummeted. All this time she hadn’t allowed her mind to wander into too dark a place, but Aaron just confirmed her unconscious fears. Something terrible had happened to Seth, something brought to the attention of the NSA...

A tense silence filled the room as they all looked at each other, the gravity of the situation settling in. Tom was the first to react, purposefully striding to meet Aaron at the door with a look of grim determination on his face. “We’ll handle this now,” he urged. He glanced back at Kendra, who looked stricken. “I’m sorry Kendra, this isn’t your purview-“

“I understand, sir,” she hurriedly assured him. Emily could tell that being kept out of the loop on this was going to kill her, but there was nothing to be done. She, Lyor, and the President followed Aaron to the Situation Room. “What’s the situation, Aaron?” Tom asked urgently, and Aaron brought up a video file on the screen. “This was sent to us early this morning, sir.” Aaron answered grimly. “We can assure you it’s completely authentic. However, our efforts to trace the origins of the video have been unsuccessful.”

“Aaron,” Tom questioned slowly, “You said that this concerns Seth.”

Aaron sighed, and began to play the video. Emily had to stifle a gasp as the image of Seth chained to a wall in some dank cellar appeared on the screen. He was crouched on the ground, in the suit he was wearing yesterday, periodically glancing up at a man holding a gun to his temple in a series of aborted, jerky movements. The man in question had his face covered by a balaclava, rendering him unidentifiable, but the terror on Seth’s face was all too obvious. They all watched on in steadily mounting horror as Seth’s captor laid out his demand- the pardon of Lieutenant Jesse Kerrin within four days. The name was familiar to Emily- his had been a high profile case. He had been sentenced for the murder of several unarmed civilians during his time in Afghanistan. He had claimed that he had intelligence that they were enemy combatants, but his argument hadn’t held up in court, and he’d been sent to federal prison. Emily watched incredulously as the anonymous man demanded the lieutenant’s release- he had to know that the President would never allow such a demand to be met.

Of course he knew, Emily realised resignedly, but he also knew that Tom Kirkman would never let anything happen to a member of his staff.

The video paused just as the man delivered a particularly vicious jab to Seth’s head with his gun, and Tom looked at Aaron questioningly. “There’s still more to go.” The President, Emily noted, was doing a remarkably good job a keeping his composure, but Emily could read, from the hard line of his shoulders, the sharpness in his tone, that the man was far from calm.

“Yes sir, but..” Aaron hesitated, “I should warn you that the rest of the video is..graphic.”

Emily felt a shiver of dread at his words. He wasn’t saying...

Tom’s voice was steady. “Play the video, Aaron.”

As the video continued, the man’s words engulfed the room. “Watch closely, Mr President, and know that everything that happens now is up to you.” Emily barely suppressed her flinch as the man swung his first punch at Seth. The dull thud of flesh hitting flesh invaded her mind, joined in horrible succession by Seth’s hoarse cries of pain as the blows continued. One particularly vicious hit left a trail of blood oozing from Seth’s mouth, and Emily quickly averted her eyes. Even with the strain that their relationship had been under recently, Emily couldn’t bear the sight of her friend curled up on the floor, desperately trying to ward off blows from above that wouldn’t stop coming. A quick glance around the room confirmed that the others were having as difficult a time with it as she was. Aaron’s stoic composure had cracked a little, and she could see the desperate horror in his eyes as he watched his friend being tortured for the second time. Lyor had turned his head away, swallowing roughly as the hellish sounds from the video filled his ears.

Tom however...Tom’s eyes remained fixed intently on the screen before him, seemingly unable to look away as Seth coughed up his own blood. His hands were balled into fists, and they were shaking from their positions at his side. The President, Emily could tell, was about to explode.

They let the video drag on to the bitter end, holding down bile as Seth’s body twitched from taser shocks on the screen. After what seemed to Emily like an hour, the man finally stepped away from Seth’s wrecked form and turned back to address the camera. 

“Don’t bother trying to trace this video, or any others we’ll send you,” The man proclaimed, expression unreadable beneath the wooden mask. “We’re untraceable. You play by our rules. Four days, Mr President.” The video blinked into blackness.

The silence that swallowed the room was a welcome relief from the ragged screaming that had filled it before- nobody wanted to be the first to break it. Slowly, Tom dragged himself around to face the rest of them, eyes burning. Emily realised with heavy satisfaction that the kidnappers had made one vital mistake- hurting someone that Tom Kirkman cared about. 

“Mr President,” Aaron said, breaking the bubble, “they also sent a phone number.” He handed over a sleek black phone, the number already punched in. “They’ll only talk to you, sir.” Tom nodded, knuckles white as he clenched the phone. “Jesse Kerrin,” he began, “is far from what this man says he is. He’s no war hero- he’s a criminal. They can’t expect...” His words trailed off as he gazed down at the phone in his hand, thinking of anything he could say that would untangle this mess they were in.

“I wouldn’t mention that, sir,” Lyor’s voice chimed from next to Emily. “We don’t want to antagonise them any further.”

Tom gave a barely perceivable nod, and then with a deep breath, dialled the number. The call was picked up immediately. 

“Am I speaking to the president?”

“You are.”

“Good, then I’m guessing you understand our demands?”

Tom)s mouth quirked into a humourless smile. “I understand perfectly. What you don’t seem to understand is that the American government doesn’t make a practise of negotiating with terrorists.”

There was a crackle of silence on the other end, then, “You might want to change your position on that if you ever want to see Mr Wright alive again.”

“I won’t discuss anything further unless you can guarantee that no further harm will come to Seth Wright.”

“Release the lieutenant now you’ve got yourself a deal.”

A spasm of rage flickered over Tom’s face. “I want to speak to Seth.”

“Press Secretary isn’t taking any questions at the moment.” the man snapped. “But don’t worry, if it’s proof of life you’re looking for, you’ll be getting it real soon. The clock’s ticking, Mr President.”

The call ended. Tom looked close to hurling the phone at the wall, but instead handed it back to Aaron. His voice was close to a growl as he spoke again. “Get me Agent Wells.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three- AKA: I hate Tiffany

Hannah felt her lips twist into a frown as she watched the President pace in front of her. He’d called her to his office to check on her progress, and she had no choice but to tell him that at this point they still had nothing. They’d tried to trace the source of the video again, but even with Chuck’s expertise it was a dead end. Whoever was behind this knew what they were doing. They were still in the process of combing the street in front of and surrounding Seth Wright’s apartment, but so far there weren’t any leads there either. There was no security camera footage to review, and nobody had seen or heard anything. It had been a quick, clean grab. 

Hannah had the troubling feeling that they were running up against a brick wall. Her next step was to look through all of Lieutenant Kerrin’s known associates, people who’d visited him in prison, people who’d been stationed with him, to see if that led them anywhere. But that sort of investigation would take time. And they didn’t have much of that.

Hannah was reluctant to relay this to the President. He was already demanding answers, even though the FBI had only been working on this for a few hours. She understood- ever since Alex Kirkman’s death, Tom had been more prone to agitation, to impatience, even now that nearly a year had passed. It was obvious that the President was not handling the threat of losing someone else well.

“We still have time, sir,” Hannah reminded him. “We’re all working hard on this.”

“Then work harder!” Tom snapped, stopping abruptly in front of her. He sighed, running a hand across his face, shoulders drooping remorsefully. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I know you’re doing the best you can. I have complete faith in you, Agent Wells.”

Hannah nodded. “We’ll find something soon, sir.” She hoped they did. Hannah had never personally met the Press Secretary, but she remembered vividly her own kidnapping at the hands of Pax Americana. She could still taste the initial burst of fear when she first woke up in chains, before her FBI training kicked in. Seth Wright wasn’t nearly as prepared as she had been. And judging by the video, his ordeal was far worse.

The President dismissed her, and she briskly exited his office, filled with determination. She had work to do.

-

Kendra felt too agitated to work. She’d tried to throw herself into the duties of the day after the Morning Brief was cut short, but she wasn’t able to tear her thoughts away from whatever was happening with Seth. Kendra wasn’t an idiot- NSA being involved meant that terrorism was likely at play and Seth, being the Press Secretary, was a prime target for some sort of extortion attempt. What was killing her, though, was the not knowing- conjecture wasn’t enough. She needed answers.

The atmosphere amongst the Senior Staff had shifted from uneasiness to one of pure dread. Kendra had caught up with the others after they exited the Situation Room. Emily and Lyor had returned from the meeting subdued, and the President had headed straight back to the Oval Office without a word to anyone. Emily’s face was tightly wound into a mask of professionalism as she instructed Lyor to take over as Press Secretary, “until...this all works out.” Kendra flinched internally at the words. That could mean anything. The frustration of not knowing was reaching a peak within her- she couldn’t just stand around and do nothing while the others handled the situation.

Lyor stalked off in the direction of the Press room, leaving Emily and Kendra alone together. Kendra turned to the other woman, letting her desperation bleed into her expression as she spoke. “Emily, can just tell me-“

“Before you even ask, I can’t tell you anything.” Emily interrupted. “This situation is strictly need-to-know.”

Kendra did need to know. “I don’t need any details,” she continued doggedly, following Emily as she started down the hallway. Emily turned on her heel to face her, and Kendra was struck silent by the cold look she sent her. “You’re White House Counsel. You don’t have authorisation. It’s as simple as that.”

Kendra watched Emily walk off. She was no stranger to work-Emily’s frostiness, but her dismissal still stung, especially since it concerned their friend. Kendra knew that she was being irrational, that demanding this sort of information was a breach of protocol, but as far as she was concerned this whole situation was irrational. And there was no way in hell Emily Rhodes was going to stop her.

She took off down the hall, following the path that Lyor took. Kendra quickly caught up to him just outside the Press Room, and his face dropped when he saw her. He clearly knew what she was about to ask.

“Tell me what’s going on with Seth, Lyor.”

He fixed her with a hard stare. “Kendra, you’re not auth-“

“Don’t you dare, Lyor,” Kendra hissed, her anxiety boiling over into anger. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m not authorised to know. Seth is my friend. Please.”

Lyor had known her long enough to realise that getting into an argument with Kendra Daynes wasn’t something he could walk away from unscathed. He let out a sigh, nodding his head in the direction of an empty office adjacent to the Press room. Kendra followed him in, understanding the need for privacy. Lyor crossed his arms agitatedly. “There’s a...ransom situation.”

Kendra bit her lip as she nodded. She’d figured as much, but hearing her suspicions confirmed was like a punch in the gut. She desperately wanted to know more, but decided it was best not to push her luck. Technically, she knew too much already. Still, she had to ask. “Is he...is he okay?”

Lyor’s solemn face was all the answer she needed. Kendra sucked in a deep breath as her mind flooded with the possibilities of what Seth could be going through. “You never heard any of this,” Lyor reminded her, voice low. Her horror must have been clear on her face because he reached out and gave her an awkward, yet genuine pat on the arm before withdrawing and heading out to face the press.

-

Ripping reporters to shreds was an excellent way to de-stress, Lyor reflected as he wrapped up the press briefing. Emily likely wouldn’t approve, judging by her reaction to the last time he played at being Press Secretary, but it was well worth it. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that most of the questions asked were redundant to the point of idiocy.

Even so, conducting the briefing had left a bitter taste in Lyor’s mouth. He would have enjoyed it far more if the circumstances weren’t so dire. The sound of Seth’s cries of pain rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind, but he stubbornly pushed them back. He couldn’t afford to dwell.

He left the Press room, heading back towards the main West Wing area, when a familiar voice spoke up behind him. “Seth’s disappearing acts seem to be becoming a habit.”

Lyor gritted his teeth. Tiffany Gimble: the White House’s resident pest. He didn’t bother slowing, making the journalist jog to catch up with him. “And you seem to be making a habit of annoying me about it. What do you want?”

“Don’t play obtuse, Lyor, it doesn’t suit you. Where’s Seth?”

“Unavailable at this time.”

Tiffany snorted. “Avoiding the question didn’t work before and it won’t now. I found out about Seth’s drug charges, you think I won’t figure this out too?”

So that’s the hot water Seth had landed himself in all those months ago, Lyor mused, but he pushed the thought aside. Not the time. Tiffany continued, with an edge to her smile that Lyor didn’t like one bit. “I have some sources that say the FBI’s had a surge of activity today. Apparently, Seth’s name came up.” She raised an eyebrow. “I could draw all sorts of conclusions from that. Why don’t you set the story straight?”

“I have no comment on the Press Secretary at this moment,” he deadpanned, steadfastly ignoring her self-satisfied smirk as he walked away. Goddamn vultures.

As much as he enjoyed the thought, ignoring Tiffany wasn’t going to work for long. Lyor made a beeline for the Oval Office. The President was slumped at his desk, head in his hands, when Lyor walked in, but he quickly straightened at the sight of the political advisor. “Ah, Lyor,” Tom greeted, smiling weakly. “I hope the briefing went well?”

“The briefing was fine, sir, but we have another problem on our hands. A press problem.”

Tom’s forehead creased in irritation, “Oh?”

“A journalist is sniffing around Seth’s...absence.”

“Already? Christ.” Tom shook his head. “I don’t want the press getting their hands on this yet.”

Lyor’s lips thinned. “With all due respect, sir, the press are going to find out sooner rather than later. Tiffany Gimble is like a dog with a bone- she will not stop until she figures out the truth. Better that we control the flow of information from the get-go.”

Tom nodded gravely. “You’re right. Coordinate with Aaron, and then make a statement. Try to give them as little information as possible.”

Lyor inclined his head, understanding what Tom wasn’t saying. Don’t mention the torture.

Tom’s heart seemed to grow even heavier as he watched Lyor leave. Before any of this reached the press, there was something he needed to do. He really should have done it hours ago, but the dread of having this conversation had held him back. No avoiding it now though.

Slowly, feeling as though his fingers were heavy weights, he dialled the number that he’d had Wyatt get for him earlier. A cowardly part of his mind hoped that there’d be no answer, but, because the universe was conspiring against him that day, he heard a woman‘s voice answering the call.

“Hello, Mrs Wright,” Tom began sombrely, “this is Tom Kirkman. I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news about Seth...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Seth’s POV next chapter


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we’re back to the torture!!

The warm glow of the late night lights in the office washed over Seth as he watched the muted flickering of the TV screen. Around him, the rest of the Senior Staff were relaxing into the atmosphere- it’d been close, but the vote for a bill had just gone through in their favour, and that kind of victory deserved a celebration. With pizza, of course. The tension of the last few days had fizzled away, and everyone was enjoying themselves. Kendra was locked in conversation with the President, probably envisioning the next great piece of legislation they could pass, spurred on by the win. Emily was getting stuck into the pizza- she’d been running on coffee and force of will for the last week- and trying not to laugh at some comment Lyor had made. Seth was happy just to be in the same room together with his friends. His family.

“Hey Seth, how about another beer?” Tom called over to him, holding out the bottle with a grin. Seth began to reach out for it but- something yanked at his arm. Seth looked around in a panic and saw that his hands were handcuffed, chained to the wall behind him. He turned back to the others, but stopped short when he saw they all had grey balaclavas pulled over their faces. No, no, no, Seth’s mind shrieked, horror coiling around his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t hear his own words over the deafening creak of a metal door swinging open-

Seth’s eyes snapped open. Grey walls, stone floor, handcuffs. Of course. He could feel tears stinging his eyes as he fully woke from his dream. That was all it had been, and now he’d woken into a nightmare. The sound of footsteps caught his attention, and a sudden burst of adrenaline helped him to heave himself up from the awkwardly slumped position he’d been sleeping in as one of his captors let the door swing closed behind him. That creak- that’s what had woken him, and Seth felt a ridiculous stab of anger towards it for tearing him from the dream.

Seth squinted up at the man approaching him- his right eye had swollen shut, but even so he could make out that it was the man who’d given the beating. Williams, the doctor had called him. Seth couldn’t help but tremble at this sight of him. Williams made a sudden movement and Seth slammed back against the wall, but in a second he realised that the man was simply holding up- was that a burger?

“Guessing you’re pretty hungry,” Williams said, slowly beginning to unwrap the paper. The smell wafting from the burger quickly reminded Seth that, yes, he was starving. He wasn’t sure how long he‘d been sleeping, or how long he’d been there at all for that matter, but it was long enough for his stomach to start growling at the thought of food.

Williams finished unwrapping the burger, and then with an air of dark amusement, tossed it to the floor at Seth’s feet. Seth couldn’t help the noise of disgust that escaped him- the ground was still smeared with traces of blood from before. “Go on, eat up,” his captor encouraged, laughter in his voice. Seth made an aborted gesture with his shackled hands, looking up at Williams. “I’m still cuffed,” he reminded him.

Williams lips twitched under his mask. “So?”

Seth glanced back at the burger, now oozing ketchup onto the concrete. No way. No fucking way. He couldn’t do anything about getting beaten to a pulp, but he’d rather starve than eat off the floor like a dog. He could go four days without food. Williams sighed, kneeling down so he was eye-to-eye with Seth. “Now you’re just hurting my feelings,” he sneered. His hand went to his belt, and Seth felt a jolt of fear as the man unhooked the taser. Williams waved the taser in front of Seth’s eyes, a clear warning. “Eat,” he ordered.

Glowering, Seth slowly lowered himself to the floor. The chain didn’t give him a great deal of slack, so he had to resort to sprawling inelegantly on the ground, cheek against the concrete, to reach the burger. Seth felt himself flush down to his neck at the indignity of it all. At least, he thought bitterly, they weren’t filming this. He’d never have to share this with anyone.

Seth gingerly pulled himself back up after finishing, wincing at the strain on his aching body. Williams reached out again, and Seth flinched as he condescendingly gave Seth a pat on the head. “Good boy. Now thank me.”

‘For what?’ Seth wanted to spit, but the taser still in Williams’ hand kept him at bay. As though the words were sandpaper against his throat, he reluctantly muttered, “thanks.”

Williams rocked back on his heels, looking satisfied under his balaclava. “You should be grateful. Considering what your government’s done to us, we should be treating you a lot worse.” 

“What our government’s done?” Seth echoed blankly. Jesse Kerrin, Seth knew, was a criminal, objectively so. The fact that these guys seemed to think he was some wronged hero made Seth suspect that they were close to delusional. And he wasn’t feeling great about being locked in a room with a delusional guy waving around a taser. Right now, Williams seemed controlled, but to Seth it felt like the calm before the storm.

His captor nodded gravely. “Your government’s done so...so many things. Things you’ve probably never even given a thought to.”

“Not the Kirkman government,” Seth pointed out, “Not..not me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Williams shook his head. “You’re all the same.” He reached under the collar of his shirt and fished out a set of dog tags, the metal gleaming dully in the faint light. “See these?” Seth strained his good eye- Williams, James, S was written into the surface. “I served with Kerrin over in Afghanistan. Only for a short time, but enough time to know what kind of a man he was. What he did...” Williams sucked in a harsh breath and Seth shrunk away. “You people don’t understand what it’s like being over there. The..the choices we have to make to survive. The lieutenant did what he had to do. And your President, Kirkman,” his mouth curled in derision, “he’s the real criminal here, for letting the government continue to make these terrible mistakes.”

Seth couldn’t help but bristle at the man’s words- how dare he, after kidnapping and torturing him, call Tom Kirkman a criminal? Williams got up to leave, but before he could open the door, Seth burst out before he could stop himself, “the only mistake our government made was not locking you up as well.”

Williams paused, and Seth cursed himself. Slowly, his captor turned to face him, but instead of bringing out the taser again, he simply smiled. It sent a shiver down Seth’s spine. “You don’t seem as grateful to me as I thought. No more food for you.” He paused for a second as Seth swallowed in fear, and continued. “Oh, and don’t get too comfortable. I think it’s high time for another home video.”

Seth could barely hold back his shaking until after Williams closed the door behind him. He couldn’t bear the thought of another beating. He glanced around wildly- the room was completely bare, nothing that he could use as a weapon. Besides, even if there were anything, he couldn’t get out of these stupid handcuffs. In a burst of frustration, he yanked hard against the chain, and yelped as a burst of pain bloomed from his wrists. The cuffs had been chafing against them, and now the skin was red and raw underneath. Seth dropped his hand back down in defeat. He was being stupid. They had guns and tasers, and he could barely move without his whole body screaming in pain. Even if he got free he’d have no chance. He felt a sob building up in his chest. He was helpless.

The door swung open again, and Seth furiously fought back the urge to cry. Not in front of them. The doctor began to set up the tripod again as Williams paced, and Seth braced himself for the blows that would soon come. The camera man gave Williams the thumbs up, and Seth tensed, but he didn’t punch him. Instead he crouched down beside Seth and reached into his pocket. Seth’s good eye widened when he realised what Williams had in his hand- a switchblade.

“Thought we might change things up a bit,” he murmured, running the blade gently down Seth’s cheek and stopping at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe I should cut out your tongue,” he whispered hoarsely to Seth’s shaking form. “Wouldn’t be able to feed lies to the press like that, now would you?”

He let out a chuckle, and with a sharp flick of the wrist left a nick at the side of Seth’s lips. Seth tasted the tang of metal as blood oozed into his mouth. With one hand tracing lazy patterns down the sensitive skin of Seth’s neck with the tip of the knife, Williams’ undid Seth’s tie with the other. He tossed it aside irreverently and went to work on his buttons, exposing Seth’s bare chest to the chilly air. 

Seth couldn’t stop the whimper that spilled from his lips as he felt the knife slice into his flesh, nor could he control the tears now streaming down his face. It wasn’t just the pain- although the blade slicing through his bruised skin was worse than anything he’d felt before. He couldn’t bear the vulnerability; being stripped down, feeling his captor’s breath against his skin, his hands chained uselessly behind his back. Williams could do anything he wanted to him. And the President would see it all.

Seth’s breaths came out in short, shaky bursts as Williams made another cut, this time tracing the line of his rib. Williams delivered a few more deliberate cuts across his chest, and then, with one last savage swipe, opened up a jagged gash across Seth’s stomach. Seth howled, his flesh searing from the bite of the knife’s edge. He could feel the slick warmth of blood dribbling down his front, but couldn’t bring himself to look at what damage had been done. He didn’t even look as the two men left the room, just kept his gaze fixed on the flickering bulb above.

Was there only a certain amount of pain a person could feel? Seth tried to imagine anything worse than this, but he couldn’t. Was this the absolute worst it could get? Agony had almost seemed to become a baseline- Seth could barely remember what it felt like to not be hurting. This wasn’t going to end, Seth thought dazedly. The pain was never going to end. The more rational part of his mind spoke up, reminded him that of course it was, it was only a matter of time. He couldn’t give up hope. But right now, all he could focus on was the pain.

The door swung open again, but Seth couldn’t bring himself to look. A figure walked into view- it was the doctor again, carrying water and what looked like some sort of first aid kit. He didn’t speak, just wordlessly knelt and offered the water bottle. Seth tiredly accepted. The man then popped open the first aid box, pulling out gauze pads and a bottle of antiseptic. “I need to cover these wounds,” he explained, as if Seth actually cared what he was doing. “We can’t have an infection killing you.”

“Before the four days are up, you mean,” Seth whispered. The doctor didn’t answer.

Seth watched blearily as the man unscrewed the bottle of antiseptic. “This might hurt a little,” he warned.

Seth could’ve laughed.

As the doctor worked, Seth let his thoughts drift back to the dream he had before. The memory almost brought a smile to his face. He wondered what the others were doing right now. Probably worrying themselves sick over him. Seth shook that thought away, tried to bring back the feeling of the dream; comfort, happiness, love.

For a second, it was there, flickering warm and bright in his chest. And then as quickly as it came it faded, and Seth was left with nothing but the pain.

-

Lyor stood with Emily and the President, watching as news channel after news channel ran the story of the Press Secretary being held for ransom. He’d announced it this morning, a day since they’d first seen the video, and already it was the only story people were talking about. No surprise there. The press conference was...difficult, but Lyor couldn’t help but delight in being able to take away Tiffany’s chance to break the story herself. She’d approached him afterwards, asking for an exclusive on “the details of the case,” as she’d put it. There’d been a gleam in her eyes as she envisioned having the inside scoop on one of the hottest stories of the year. Lyor had needed to resist the urge to throttle her.

Aaron entered the Oval Office, and the President switched off the TV, looking at the National Security Advisor with a glimmer of hope. The glimmer died, however, when Aaron quietly announced that another video had been sent through. Lyor exchanged a look with Emily, and they all trailed after Aaron in tense silence.

The terrorists had apparently gotten bored of simply beating up their hostage, and had graduated to carving him up instead. Lyor kept his eyes steadfastly fixed on the ground as the video played. He generally wasn’t a fan of blood in any circumstances, but seeing it come from Seth gave Lyor the alarming urge to throw up. He’d never heard Seth cry before, and it was a sound he never wanted to hear again for the rest of his life.

They endured five minutes of the video before Tom indicated for Aaron to pause. “Is there anything else?” he asked, “any messages to me, new demands?” Aaron simply shook his head.

“Turn it off, then.”

Lyor let out an internal sigh of relief. The President stared at the blank screen for a few moments, as though he could still see what had been playing a few seconds ago, and ran a hand over his exhausted face. “Has Agent Wells made any progress?”

“No, sir.” Aaron’s tone was heavy with regret.

Tom shook his head. “It’s been a day, we need something. Give me the phone.”

“...sir?” Aaron questioned.

“I can’t give them Kerrin, they must know that. But I could bargain for more time, or find something else that they want.” 

Tom’s voice rang with desperation, and alarm bells sounded in Lyor’s head. He stepped forward, drawing the President’s attention. “Sir, even under the circumstances we can’t be seen negotiating with terrorists. It would look-“

Tom looked him dead in the eye. “Lyor,” he began slowly, “do you really think I care about optics right now? The more time we spend trying to find some way out of this, the less time Seth has!” He ended in a near shout, and Lyor’s mouth snapped shut. The President knew Lyor was right, but at the same time, the President wasn’t incorrect- even as they spoke, time was slipping out of their fingers.

Tom leaned against the desk, eyes closed. “We’re done here,” he said.

Lyor and Emily stepped out, leaving the President alone. They knew he wouldn’t do anything rash. Even so, his words had hooked into Lyor’s brain and he couldn’t seem to shake them. He hadn’t meant that optics were more important than Seth’s life, he was just trying to stop an already terrible situation from escalating. He realised that his hands were shaking ever so slightly, and he stuffed them aggressively in his pockets, out of sight.

Lyor felt Emily looking at him- she was always able to read him, far too well for his comfort. “You’re just doing you’re job. The President knows that.” Emily soothed. “He’s just...”

Lyor could only give a jerky nod. They were all feeling it, the President was no different. All they could do now was wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Seth had never wanted to sleep so badly. He’d managed it after the beating- the crash after the initial burst of adrenaline from his first encounter with his captors was enough to overpower the aches in his body, and the fear of getting caught off guard. But now he couldn’t seem to do it. Every time he came close a vicious stab of pain would wrack his body, snapping him back to consciousness. It was frustrating beyond belief. All Seth wanted to do was slip back into his dreams, where he was back at the White House, or back at home. Away from here, even just for a little bit.

Being awake, with nothing to do but count the time, was a stark reminder of how long he’d really been here. Minutes stretched into long, enduring hours, each one seeming longer than the last. It’d been nearly a whole day since the last session, with the knife- Seth tried not to think about that too much, didn’t like how his chest tightened at the memory- which meant that he’d been here for a total of 2 days. At least, that was assuming what the doctor had told him the last time he was in here was true. He’d come to see Seth earlier that day, bringing water and, much to Seth’s relief, a bucket to relieve himself in. Seth had asked desperately for the date, and after a second of hesitation, the man had given it to him. More of a show of pity than anything else, but Seth would take it. He preferred pity to Williams’ cold, righteous fury.

Seth shifted uncomfortably, giving his bare chest and stomach a quick glance before repulsion forced his gaze away. The cuts had been giving him trouble the last few hours, feeling as though they were burning despite the coldness of the room. The skin peeking out from under the gauze seemed a little inflamed as well. Apparently, the doctor’s slap-dash medical care hadn’t been enough to save Seth from the beginnings of an infection. He wanted to have the doctor check him out, but didn’t want to risk drawing the attention of his other captor by calling out. He’d just have to wait.

Although, judging by the faint sounds of approaching footsteps, he wouldn’t be waiting long.

The old familiar fear reared it’s head again, but Seth was too exhausted to do anything but curl in on himself slightly as the two men entered the room. He frowned a little in confusion at the odd scraping sound that accompanied them, and then he saw what Williams was dragging behind him. A bucket with water sloshing at the rim. Seth swallowed- what the hell did they have planned for him this time? Williams pulled the bucket across the floor as the doctor set up the camera, placing it in front of Seth. If he leaned forward slightly he could see his own reflection staring back at him and- god, he was a mess. A good half of his face was purpled with bruising, and his right eye was swollen shut. His beard was caked in dried blood from the split lip and the cut on his cheek. He looked barely alive, Seth realised. A few more moments passed, and Seth felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Nothing was happening. Was this all that was going to-

Williams grabbed the back of Seth’s neck and plunged his face into the bucket.

Water flooded Seth’s mouth as he sucked in a surprised breath. It burned as it shot through Seth’s nostrils and throat, filling up his lungs, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breath, couldn’t breath. Seth floundered furiously, trying to wrench his head out of the bucket, but the grip on his neck was too strong. Finally, he was hauled out of the water, face streaming. Seth spluttered into a coughing fit that wracked his frame, water coming up from his lungs and splashing down his front. Every breath felt like his lungs were on fire. Suddenly, the hand on his neck returned, and Seth barely had any time to suck in air before he was submerged again.

This time he was better prepared. Seth steadfastly held his breath, squeezing his good eye shut against the stinging water. The grip on his neck was painfully tight, and Seth tried to focus all his attention on that, anything to keep his focus away from how badly he needed to take in a breath. Soon his body was screaming at him, desperate for air, and as he opened his left eye again he saw that black spots were beginning to dance in the corners of his vision. He was about to black out, Seth realised in a panic, and he pushed back against the pressure holding him under. Williams relented, and Seth revelled in every breath he took. 

Please, no, just stop, he mentally begged as he was thrust under again. Seth held out, but every time he was dunked, Williams held him there longer, edging him closer and closer to unconsciousness. Seth lost count of the amount of times his head went in the bucket. It was too much to concentrate on when his body felt so close to giving out. He’d thrown up- thankfully away from the bucket, or he’d have been drowning in his own vomit- and the acidic aftertaste in his mouth only made things worse. In a fit of ridiculous hope, Seth looked towards the doctor during a few seconds of respite. Maybe, Seth thought wildly, maybe he’ll step in. Maybe he’ll put a stop to this, like he did before. The doctor’s lips were pressed together in a tight line, and he wouldn’t meet Seth’s gaze, but he said nothing as Seth was forced under once more.

Unconsciousness would be good at this point, Seth mused, but he wasn’t even allowed that mercy. After he was pulled out again, Williams gripped Seth’s dripping hair and forced his head back to look at him. There was an odd, clinical interest in his eyes as he studied Seth’s slack, gaping-fish face. Seth wondered if he’d ever drowned someone before. 

Through his watery vision Seth noticed a dull gleam of metal. Panic shot through him for a second as memories of the switchblade flickered in his mind, but he calmed once he realised that the glint was coming from around Williams’ neck. It was the dog tags. They must have ridden up through the motion of holding Seth down, and were now caught around his collar. Even in Seth’s addled state he could read Williams’ name on the front. The bare bones of a plan started growing in Seth’s mind. He didn’t know how close the FBI were to finding him, but they were probably stuck trying to figure out who exactly had taken him. Williams always kept his face hidden under a balaclava, but maybe...

Williams was apparently too distracted to dunk Seth in again yet. “Look at him,” he said to the doctor in amused wonder, “he’s completely out of it.”

Seth braced himself. This was going to hurt.

Seth lunged at Williams, kicking over the bucket as he slammed into the man’s stomach. He couldn’t get far with the handcuffs, but Williams was standing close enough that Seth was almost able to knock him off balance without moving much. His entire body screamed in protest, but all Seth could focus on was the dog tags, which- yes! The impact had dislodged them from their precarious position and they were now hanging across Williams’ shirt, in plain view. Williams hadn’t noticed, his attention now fixed solely on Seth. With a guttural howl of rage, he slammed his fist into Seth’s jaw, knocking him back against the floor into the spreading puddle of water. 

The man was breathing heavily, shoulders rising and falling aggressively as he bore down on Seth. In an instant, he had Seth’s right hand in his, and he pulled back on Seth’s middle finger until it snapped like cheap plastic. White hot pain shot through his hand- Seth thought he actually blacked out for a second- but Williams wasn’t done. Screams tore through Seth’s ruined throat as his ring and pinky fingers were broken, but they fizzled out into faint moans as Williams released him in disgust.

Seth was now on the fast track to passing out. He could faintly make out Williams snarling at the doctor- “Don’t go near him, you hear me? No more fucking water!”- but all Seth wanted to do was reach the velvety darkness of unconsciousness. Let that be enough, he thought, just before slipping over completely,

Please, god, let that be enough.

-

Tom hadn’t slept. The only thing he could see every time he closed his eyes was a knife cutting into Seth’s skin, his body twitching from taser shocks, tears streaming down his bloody face. After sending Lyor and Emily away, Tom had quietly asked Aaron to send the video through to him, as well as any others that came. Then he continued playing the footage til the end. He hadn’t wanted to see it- every part of him rebelled against it- but he felt some awful sort of obligation to his Press Secretary. “I’m speaking directly to the President of the United States,” the terrorist had said. If Seth had to suffer for that message, then so should he. But that didn’t mean that the others had to see it as well.

This was the third day. The terrorists seemed to be holding to some sort of pattern and, as Tom predicted with resigned acceptance, he was notified of a new video. His heart stopped as Seth’s face appeared on screen- he was almost unrecognisable under that mask of blood and bruises. Tom felt himself holding his breath along with Seth as his head was dunked into a bucket of water again and again. How could anyone engage in such senseless cruelty, he wondered bleakly. 

Tom couldn’t help but feel proud as Seth flung himself at his captor, actually managing to make him stumble. So he hadn’t let them break him yet. That was what Tom had been hoping. But the screams that came afterward as Seth’s fingers were being broken- he’d never be able to forget those.

Tom let the video run until the end. Hopefully the FBI would be able to get more out of it than he had. He couldn’t stand how limited his options were, and how little he could really do- he was the President for god’s sake, but the only thing that he had the power to do- release Kerrin- was the one thing that absolutely could not happen. Tom hoped that wherever Seth was right now, he knew that his President was doing as much as he actually could to bring him home. It was a little selfish, but Tom prayed that Seth would understand, prayed that he wouldn’t blame him. Tom didn’t know what these terrorists believed about their relationship, but to him Seth was more than just a Press Secretary. He was a friend. 

A friend that he was failing. Tom sighed. He wished....he wished Alex was there. Alex would have known how to comfort him. She would have assured him that there was nothing else he could do for Seth at the moment. She would have been able to keep him hopeful about how this was all going to end, something that Tom was losing as the hours ticked on.

But she wasn’t there. Because Tom failed her too.

-

Hannah stood over Chuck’s shoulder in her office, eyes fixed on the small figures on the screen. They were rewatching the latest video from the Press Secretary’s captors, trying to see if they could find any clues within, but so far they had nothing. The pressure was on- they only had a day and a half left before the terrorists made good on their promise to execute Seth Wright.

Hannah watched the familiar frames, remembering each event as it came up. Wright gets dunked again, he gets pulled out, he throws himself at his captor, he-

“Hey Chuck, go back a few seconds,” she asked, leaning in closer as Chuck rolled back the video, pausing it at the moment after Wright lashed out. There was something there, something she hadn’t picked up on before...

“Yeah, right there. Zoom in a bit?”

As the image increased in size, Hannah finally identified that strange flash of metal that had appeared- a set of dog tags had flown out from under the terrorist’s shirt. Chuck, realising at the same time, zoomed in even further. Right there, emblazoned on the front of the tags, was a name: 

Williams, James, S.

Hannah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I think we found our guy.”

-

“James Williams.” Hannah announced to the President’s stunned face. “He’s ex military. He served in the same unit as Jesse Kerrin, but only for a short time, and not when the murders happened. That’s why we didn’t make the connection.”

“Okay, so we know who he is. How do we find him?” Tom was all business, but there was an incredulous glimmer of hope in his eyes, as though he could barely believe that this was happening.

“We already have,” Hannah continued. “He owns property out in the middle of nowhere. We checked traffic cameras and found a car owned by Oscar Morales, another member of the unit and a close friend of Williams, driving in that direction. Coming from the area we believe Seth Wright had been taken from. Apparently, neither Williams nor Morales have been seen by their families since Tuesday-”

“The day before the first ransom video was sent,” Tom finished for her. “I want a team out there now. Try to take these guys alive, but don’t do anything that risks the lives of yourself or Seth.”

Hannah nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”

Tom was close to collapsing with utter relief. He knew it wasn’t over yet- still so many things that could go wrong, a sinister voice in his head whispered- but for now he’d take this victory at face value. He quickly sent for his Senior Staff, pacing energetically as he waited for them to get to the Oval Office. Emily, Lyor, and Kendra entered with trepidation- not surprising, considering what news Tom could be breaking- but they instantly relaxed as his face broke out into a grin.

“We’ve found him.”


	6. Chapter 6

Seth had been in his school’s magic club as a kid. He’d loved it- Mikey had called him a dork, but Seth had been utterly convinced of his own coolness. He used to put on grand shows for his family- well, his mum and brother. Seth’s dad had never been interested. He’d mastered the art of sleight of hand; he could find someone’s card, make it disappear, pull a coin out from behind his little brother’s ear and make him gasp. All with his quick, nimble fingers.

He wouldn’t be able to do any of that now, Seth reflected, twisting his head around to look at his right hand. The broken fingers had swollen up like sausages and were twisted up in odd, jagged angles. They didn’t even look like his fingers, as if someone had sewn another hand onto Seth’s body. Maybe, Seth wondered passingly, that’s what the doctor had done to him. When he was asleep- had he been asleep?- he’d come in and started making Seth into his very own Frankenstein.

Or- no. Frankenstein was the scientist, wasn’t he? Not the monster. Whatever. God, Seth was not feeling well.

Thoughts kept drifting through Seth’s mind like wispy little clouds, but his raging headache kept blowing them away. His wounds were burning now, but he couldn’t stop shivering. It was so cold in the room, much colder than when he’d first woken up. His hot, stinging skin might have almost been nice in comparison if it didn’t hurt so much. His whole body hurt, especially his chest- he couldn’t stop coughing, and his rib cage felt like it was splitting open inside him.

The doctor really should take a look at him. The word ‘infection’ chimed in Seth’s mind, but it didn’t really matter. The doctor wasn’t coming. He hadn’t been in all day. Probably a good thing; he would have made Seth drink, and he didn’t need anymore water after yesterday. The thought made Seth let out a hysterical giggle. No more water for him, no sir.

Seth’s mind drifted back to his hand. If only Williams had broken his thumb, then he could have slipped out of the cuff. That’s how they did it in the movies, right? But no, that would never work. What could he do with one useless hand? Seth let his good eye slide closed in exhaustion, his brain too fuzzy to try and figure out any other master escape plan. He felt like he was a kid again, with his father watching him with a look that said Seth was just missing something, not quite getting it, not quite enough. It wasn’t anger, just an awful sort of disappointment. It was the same look he’d given Seth when he’d told his father he wanted to be a writer, or when he was nineteen and he’d let slip that he liked men as well as women. And right now, nothing he could think of was good enough to get him out. All he could do was sit here.

Seth hadn’t seen his father in a long time, or even talked to him. He hadn’t spoken to his mum as much as he wanted to either. Working at the White House seemed to just suck his life away- the last time he got a chance to spend any time with his little brother was ruined after he took the blame for Mikey’s drug possession. Seth’s mum was probably worrying right now, wondering where her son was. He wondered if his dad was too.

Seth’s left eye flickered open, started drooping again, and then shot open as he stared open mouthed at the wall to the left of him. There, chained up and dripping blood, were his parents and brother. They were slumped against each other in a careless heap, like old dolls tossed into the trash. Silent. Still. “No, no,” Seth moaned, shaking his head, wincing as the room seemed to twist and sway. How could this have happened? Did Williams find his family and bring them here? Was this some kind of punishment, a new torture?

Seth blinked, and in an instant the people in the room changed. Now, as he squinted at the pile of bodies, he realised with dull confusion that they were the forms of Kendra, Emily, and Lyor, as beaten and bruised as he was. The faces kept morphing- now it was Tom, now Aaron, now Mike-

-what was happening what was happening what-

-Seth groaned again. A sudden bout of nausea hit him like a freight train and he collapsed to the floor as his muscles gave out. The concrete was soothing against his flushed cheek, and he lay there shivering erratically.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead and, as if from far away, Seth heard a familiar voice.

“What are you doing, Seth? You can’t just give up.”

Emily was crouching in front of him. Her face was stormy with emotions; grief, anger, pity. She let out a pained sigh, as if Seth was letting her down. “You need to get off the floor.”

“You’re...you’re okay?” Seth scanned her face desperately- she looked absolutely fine, nothing like she had a few seconds ago. His gaze shifted back to the wall. It was bare.

Her eyes softened, and her hand moved from feeling his forehead to running through his filthy hair. “I’m okay. You’re not though.” Her hand pulled back, and Seth flinched at the look she levelled at him. “Don’t even think about leaving, Seth. You can’t do that to us. We’re your family.”

Family. He’d written about family once in a speech a long time ago, how it was one of the pillars of American society. The President was standing there, face alight as he addressed the empty room. He was saying the speech, Seth realised, but Tom’s voice was too muffled to hear, as though he were speaking underwater-

-his head was pushed into the bucket, held under the water, and his lungs were burning-

-you can’t leave. You can’t do that to us, the walls seemed to whisper. 

“I’m sorry,” Seth sobbed. He didn’t even know who he was talking to anymore. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Kendra was sitting beside him, Seth’s head nearly in her lap. She smiled down at him in the way that always made every situation seem a little bit better. “They’re not going to find you guilty. I should know, I’m your lawyer.”

“I-I need help, Kendra.” Seth’s voice sounded tinny to his own ears.

“You’re right about that.”

Seth’s head flopped to the side. Kendra was gone, and now Lyor was pacing the length of the room with his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stained floor with narrowed eyes. “This place is absolutely filthy. God knows what kinds of bacteria are crawling around inside you right now!” He sighed, coming over to crouch over Seth, and lightly skimmed his finger over his bruised cheek. “This needs more than a first aid kit,” he murmured.

“Lyor,” Seth rasped, “I-I think...I think I’m dying.”

Lyor’s eyes were sad as he gazed down at him. “Yes. Yes, I think you are.”

The room was so loud- when did it get so loud? Seth winced as the flash of a camera burst in his eyes, sending his vision spinning with stars. The empty room was now a sea of reporters clamouring over each other. Their wildly flapping mouths were staring him down, gaping maws. Like deep, hungry black holes waiting to swallow him up. “Seth,” they roared at him at once. “What does the President have to say about the ransom? What’s he going to do about it? Seth?”

Seth tried to answer but his mouth was fused shut.

The crowd got louder. Their voices crashed into him like an angry wave.

“Seth!”

“Seth! Answer us!”

“Seth?”

A tight grip landed on his shoulder, shaking him. The room was quiet once more. Seth blearily looked up. The doctor was there, eyes dark with concern. His lips were moving beneath the mask but Seth couldn’t tell what he was saying.

“I-I don’t...” Seth slurred. His left eye closed. He opened it up again and the doctor was gone. Seth didn’t care. He felt his mind slipping into darkness- another hungry black hole. Seth didn’t know if he would be able to come back out of it. That was okay, he just wanted to rest. He was sick of the pain, sick of the fear, sick of the sharp bangs and shouts coming from outside the door that were keeping him from completely fading away.

The door slammed open and someone ran in- was the doctor back? No, there was no balaclava around the woman’s face. The woman....

Agent Hannah Wells had her gun raised at the ready, but lowered it as her eyes fixed on Seth. She slowly approached him, gaze scanning up and down his battered form, noting the handcuffs fixed to the wall. Seth blinked, expecting her to disappear when he looked again, but she was still there, eyes wide with concern.

“Seth Wright,” she said, edging closer. “We’re getting you out of here. You’re going to be alright.”

His vision spun, and as Seth looked up at the agent the world faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seth’s been rescued! But we’re not out of the woods yet- there are still 10 chapters left to torment our favourite Press Secretary...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hospital time!

The sterile lights in the hospital were almost cheery in their brightness, reflecting off the perfectly polished floors. Kendra was feeling the exact opposite. The initial elation from the last few hours- the FBI finding Seth, him being rescued, getting through emergency surgery- had worn off, and now her anxiety was bubbling up again. Kendra wasn’t used to sitting back and letting others handle situations for her, but she couldn’t very well defeat Seth’s injuries in a court of law. This time she simply had to let the medical professionals do their work.

Internal bleeding of the liver, the doctor had told her, since she was Seth’s emergency contact. Four broken ribs, severe infection from deep incisions, widespread contusions, three broken fingers, the beginning stages of pneumonia...The list had gone on and on. Kendra had balked at the words, but the surgeon had gently reassured her. “The surgery went well,” he’d said. “He’ll be here for a few weeks, especially if that case of pneumonia gives us any trouble, but other than a few nasty scars I’m confident that Mr Wright will make a full recovery.”

Kendra knew she wouldn’t feel better until she actually saw Seth for herself. She still couldn’t quite believe that it was all really over. This ordeal had only lasted three days, but to Kendra it had felt more like three months. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Seth’s family. They were in the ICU at the moment, going in as soon as the doctor said they were able to. He wasn’t awake yet, but Kendra knew they just wanted to see him alive. That’s all she wanted to do.

Seth’s family seemed like lovely people, despite the circumstance in which Kendra had met them. They’d been a bit tense around Emily- not surprising, considering this was the first time they’d seen her after she’d broken things off with Seth, but they’d warmed to Kendra rather quickly. Michael had latched onto her especially fast. Kendra could tell he clearly hadn’t forgotten that she’d managed to get his big brother off of drug charges that should have been aimed at him. It had been nice making light conversation with them as they all tried to keep their minds off of what was going on in the operating room. Emily hadn’t been any help in that regard, all her focus on sending constant updates back to the White House.

Looking around, Kendra realised that the Chief of Staff wasn’t sitting beside her any more. She’d probably gone to get another cup of the swamp water they called coffee at this hospital. They’d both been here for hours and it was getting late. They were the only two members of staff at the hospital. The President obviously couldn’t take the time to wait around for who knew how long, so he’d be coming as soon as Seth was awake. Lyor was also back at the White House- he needed to keep things running while Emily was here, as well as having to deal with the media storm that had erupted as soon as word got out that the Press Secretary had been recovered. Kendra definitely didn’t envy him right now. Aaron was stuck dealing with the latest development- the capture of James Williams.

Kendra felt her blood boil at just the thought of the man. James Williams, as far as the FBI was concerned, was the leader of the two-man operation to free Lieutenant Jesse Kerrin. The FBI had arrested him on his own property, the same place that they’d found Seth chained up in a basement, half dead. His partner, Oscar Morales, hadn’t been as lucky. He’d been killed in the chaos of the arrest. Kendra was hardly a proponent of the death penalty, but a vicious part of her wished that Williams had been shot as well. 

Still, since he was alive, Kendra got to take part in an even sweeter justice- securing him a life sentence. As White House Counsel, it was expected that she represent the Press Secretary in the upcoming trial, and Kendra was only too happy to oblige. The trial was more a formality than anything- they’d caught him at the scene of the crime, which happened to be his own property. And if that weren’t enough, they had video evidence of him performing the crimes, sent to them by the man himself. There was no question; James Williams was going to jail. Thanks to the sheer magnitude of evidence, Seth wouldn’t be required to testify. That alone was a relief. Kendra couldn’t imagine putting her friend through that.

She felt pressure building up behind her eyes, and she swiped at them furiously. Over the last few days she’d been too pent up with frantic worry to actually cry, but now, sitting in the hospital waiting room, Kendra felt like the dam was about to burst. But she couldn’t afford to break down just yet. She still needed to see Seth. After that, when she’s finally home, then she can let all of her emotions out.

The sound of approaching footsteps filled Kendra’s ears, and she quickly composed herself. Looking up, she saw that the Wright family was returning from the ICU. Mrs Wright looked pale enough to be a patient herself, and Mr Wright seemed to have aged a decade. Michael was trying to hold himself together, but Kendra could see the telltale brightness of unshed tears in his eyes.

Kendra stood to greet them. She hadn’t actually expected them to have come out this early. 

“Did the doctors say you had to leave?” Kendra asked anxiously. She didn’t think she’d be able to leave here without seeing Seth. Mrs Wright shook her head, giving her a shaky smile as she looked up at Kendra. “We thought that you and Miss Rhodes would want a chance to see him,” the woman said.

“Oh...thank you, ma’am.” Kendra had been a lawyer long enough to know when someone was lying. The pain in Mrs Wright’s eyes told the whole story. Apparently seeing her son in that condition was just too much to handle. Mrs Wright could clearly see how close Kendra was to breaking down, because she reached over and gave her hand a squeeze, face full of compassion. It was ridiculous- Kendra should be the one comforting her, not the other way around- but she couldn’t deny that it made her feel a little better.

As the family of three headed off towards the exit, Kendra turned to see Emily coming towards her, a cup of coffee in each hand. Kendra gave her a weak smile as Emily proffered the coffee cup towards her. “Thanks, but we don’t have time for coffee. Seth’s family just left, so we can go in now.”

Wordlessly, Emily dumped the cups in the nearest bin. Good riddance.

Kendra’s breath felt tight in her chest. She’d been waiting to go and see Seth for hours, but now that she finally had the chance, she could barely get her feet to move. Emily came to stand beside her. “You ready?” she asked.

Kendra let out a breathy laugh. “Not even close,” she admitted. Emily shot her an understanding smile. “Me neither.” Emily wasn’t exactly Kendra’s favourite person in the White House, but right now she was grateful to have her to stand beside, a comforting presence. They waited a few moments, readying themselves, and then they silently walked into the ICU.

The first thing Kendra saw was the tubes. They seemed to snake over every part of Seth’s body. He was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV, there was a tube leading out of his abdomen from the surgery, and there was an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. The sight overwhelmed Kendra for a second, but then her eyes reached the rest of him. She couldn’t prevent the gasp that slipped from her mouth, and she could feel Emily stiffen beside her. Seth was nearly unrecognisable.

His skin was a shock of bruises, mottled blue and purple and a sickly looking green. His torso was wrapped in bandages, but Kendra could guess what he looked like under them. He was so still on the bed, Kendra had to glance at the heart monitor to assure herself that he was alive. Emily let out a carefully measured breath as she took in the sight of her friend. She had been more prepared for what they were going to see after watching some of the torture footage, but clearly that hadn’t been enough. 

“You okay?” Kendra asked Emily, silently asking herself the same question. The answer came back a resounding no. Emily’s eyes kept darting away from Seth, focusing instead on the IV bag or the monitor. For a second Kendra thought that Emily hadn’t heard her, and was about to repeat the question when Emily suddenly gave a tight nod, blinking furiously. “I’m...I’m okay,” she murmured. “I should update the President.”

Kendra watched as Emily hurriedly retreated. She couldn’t blame her, not really. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Seth, reaching out to clasp his hand in hers.

“Hey,” she whispered, smiling despite herself. “It’s good to see you again.”

-

Emily burst out into the waiting room, feeling as though her chest was about to explode. The sight of Seth stretched out on that hospital bed, looking more dead than alive- it was too much. Maybe she was being a coward, but she couldn’t stay in that room any longer. 

As she walked her shaking legs back to the uncomfortable waiting room seats Emily saw a familiar figure stand up to greet her, and she did her best to snap her features back into some semblance of calm. Aaron Shore gave her a tired nod in greeting, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. Emily knew the feeling.

He cleared his throat. “Williams is in FBI custody. They’re questioning him as we speak. So far it seems that his initial story’s checking out- it really was just an attempt to free Kerrin.”

Emily nodded. “A failed attempt,” she said, and Aaron inclined his head. “And it was just the two of them?”

“We believe so.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, and Emily sighed. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that,” she pointed out, and Aaron’s polished veneer of professionalism cracked. He looked towards the direction of the ICU, as though he was trying to spot Seth through the walls. “I came to see him,” Aaron admitted. “How is he, Em?”

Emily blinked- it’d been a while since he’d called her that. He really must be tired. She moved away from the thought as she considered the best thing to say. “He’s needed a lot of stitches,” she finally said with a sigh, “but he’ll be fine.”

Aaron nodded. A look that Emily recognised as guilt crept over his features, and it made her heart ache a little. It had been quite some time since Emily had had anything close to a personal talk with Aaron, and the awkwardness of things left unresolved still hung between them, but she didn’t feel like she could let this stand. “Aaron,” she began softly, “don’t think that this is your fault.”

Aaron sucked in a sharp breath. “Isn’t it?” He retorted bitterly. “I’m National Security Advisor, it’s my job to ensure that this kind of thing doesn’t happen.”

“You couldn’t have predicted this. Nobody saw this coming- these guys weren’t on anyone’s radar before now. You did the best you could.”

Aaron shook his head. “I should have done more. I...” he trailed off and Emily could see the mournfulness in his eyes. “He’s my friend, Em.” Aaron continued softly. “He’s my best friend.”

Emily nodded, closing her eyes against the prickle of tears. “I know,” she whispered.

-

Beeping. Murmuring voices and the shadow of movement. Softness.

Seth twitched his fingers a fraction, trying to feel out his alien surroundings without alerting whoever was standing over him. He was lying down, and whatever was beneath him gave slightly under his touch. A bed, he realised. As he came further into consciousness, he could feel a mask covering his mouth and nose. A thrill of alarm went through him, but slowly his mind started to put things together. This...was a hospital. The mask was helping him breathe, the beeping was probably a monitor, and the people around him, whoever they were, didn’t want to hurt him.

The comforting lull of sleep pulled at Seth’s mind, but as he started to drift off again he could feel something wet slide down his cheek. 

He was free.


	8. Chapter 8

Kendra slid into her car, slamming the door closed and letting her head fall back onto the headrest with a dull thud. She loved her job, she really did, but Kendra had a suspicion that working as the White House Counsel was going to be the leading cause of her untimely, stress-related death. Right on cue, her phone buzzed in her purse. Kendra huffed irritably- if this was one of her staffers telling her that those court dates had been shifted around again- her whirring mind stopped as she read the text message:

He’s awake!

All thoughts of work disappeared from her mind as Kendra started up her car, driving in the direction of the hospital. The text was from Naomi Wright, Seth’s mum- Kendra had ran into her again when visiting Seth on the second day of his hospital stay and she’d given Kendra her number, promising to alert her to any new developments. “I know how important your work is,” she’d said, “you can’t spending every waking moment here with my son.” She was right, of course, the legal needs of the White House didn’t magically disappear because Seth was in hospital, and so Kendra had accepted her promise with a wave of gratitude.

Now, three days later, Seth was awake. Well, he’d been a couple of times before, technically, but he was far too feverish and hopped up on painkillers to really be considered lucid, so it was impossible to get anything out of him while he slipped in and out of sleep. Kendra pulled into the hospital car park, thrumming with nervous energy. What was she even supposed to say? She didn’t even know if Seth wanted to talk- Kendra doubted that she‘d be feeling very sociable if she’d just been held hostage for three days.To steady herself, she shot off a quick text to Emily, who would then inform everyone else. Kendra knew that the President wanted to be notified as soon as Seth was awake.

Kendra hopped out of the car and cut through the cool night air towards the hospital entrance. She couldn’t afford to hesitate any longer, she was cutting it fine with the visiting hours already. Seth had been moved out of the ICU and was now in one of the general patient rooms, so she had to ask for directions. When she finally found the right room and peeked her head in, Seth was staring listlessly at the blank TV on the wall, and he startled a little when she rapped gently on the open door.

“Kendra,” he murmured, something almost like wonder flooding his features for a few seconds before his face split into a tired but genuine smile. Kendra internally winced on his behalf; the oxygen mask was gone, but the right side of his face was still heavily bruised, and she bet smiling like that was painful. 

“Hey, Seth,” she greeted him warmly, dropping down into the seat beside his bed. This visit was easier than the last, she mused. Her heart still twinged at the sight of his bandage wrapped form, but seeing him awake and moving helped to dissipate some of her horror. Seth was still looking at her a little oddly, now with his brows furrowed slightly in confusion, as if her were trying to retrieve some lost memory.

“I saw you...” he began hesitantly, then trailed off with a frown.

“I came to see you the night you came in to the hospital,” Kendra offered, “You were asleep, but maybe you heard me and subconsciously realised I was there?” Seth slowly nodded at her explanation, but there was something in his eyes that told Kendra that he hadn’t been talking about that.

“Your family just left then?” Kendra changed the subject, hoping to brighten the mood, but Seth’s smile was a little forced as he nodded. “Yeah, I finally convinced them to go and eat some actual food. They don’t need to be stuck in here with me.” Kendra wondered a little at Seth’s reluctant tone when talking about his family, but decided not to ask. “Well, I hope you’re ready for more visitors,” she joked. “The President’s coming to see you.”

“Oh-“ Seth’s eyes widened a fraction, and Kendra rushed to reassure him. “We don’t want to overwhelm you. He’ll understand if you don’t feel up to it.” 

“I- no. No, it’s fine,” Seth smiled weakly. “I have to spend my time doing something, right? I’m going to be here a while. Finally have some time off for once.”

Kendra tried to smile. It was the kind of joke that was so typical of Seth to say, but now the words fell flat somehow, seemed forced. As if Seth were just reading off a script, trying to act at being himself. She chastised herself at the thought- of course he wasn’t feeling like himself. Nobody would be after what he’d gone through.

“How long are the doctors saying?” Kendra asked. She wanted Seth to be out of the hospital as soon as possible but he had to be well first. And he still looked far from that.

“A couple more weeks. My ribs are healing up fine, but they think I’ll need more time to recover from surgery because of the pneumonia. And they’re still worried about the infection from the- the, uh....the, um..” Seth floundered helplessly, grimacing as his eyes seemed to look back at something Kendra couldn’t see, his breath catching slightly in his throat. His hands were shaking. Kendra’s heart ached- she hadn’t ever thought that Seth could look so small. She instinctively reached out to take his unbroken hand in hers, but he yelped at her touch, pulling away as if she’d burned him. 

“Seth, I’m sorry, I-“ Kendra felt sick with self hatred as Seth turned to her with impossibly wide eyes, breathing hard as he struggled to get his shaking under control. “I didn’t realise, I shouldn’t have touched you-“

“S’fine,” Seth mumbled, swallowing harshly. “You just...startled me. I-I’m okay.” He was flushed red under the bruising, and Kendra realised with a pang in her chest that Seth was ashamed of the way he’d reacted. Kendra wanted to reassure him that it was perfectly understandable, considering what he’d been through- Kendra didn’t know what the terrorists had done to Seth, exactly, but she could put two and two together. But she got the feeling Seth didn’t want to talk about his ordeal at the moment.

Seth opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else, but at that moment he was overtaken by a coughing fit. Great, wracking coughs shook his whole frame and his eyes watered at the force of them. He seemed to be having trouble catching his breath, and his heart monitor had spiked. Kendra shot up from her seat, unsure of what to do to help.

“I-I can get someone-“

“No!” Seth gasped out, spluttering as the coughs petered out somewhat. “No, don’t leave. Please.” She felt herself being pulled back into her seat by his plea, and she watched helplessly as his chest heaved. “Alright,” she soothed, “I’m right here, Seth. I’m not going anywhere.” Slowly, Seth’s breathing evened out while Kendra sat beside him, careful not to touch. His eyes were squeezed shut- god, his ribs must be killing him, Kendra thought- and he weakly grabbed at the remote beside the bed that controlled the flow of painkillers, slamming down on the button.

Kendra felt a sea of emotion well up inside her as she watched him. She’d been scared, absolutely terrified, that she would never see him again. Not alive anyway. But he was here right in front of her, traumatised and in pain, but living. She tried to find the words to express how she was feeling, but nothing seemed to be enough to capture the utter, heart-stopping relief filling her chest.

“Seth,” she said, voice soft, “You have no idea.....I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Even through the wince of pain, Kendra could see a small smile form on his lips.

-

Tom waited outside the hospital room that Seth was in, flanked all around by Secret Service. He could see that Kendra was inside talking to Seth, and he wanted to give them some space before seeing Seth himself. In truth, Tom needed some time. He’d let himself get caught up on the relief of finding him, and the arrest of James Williams, but with every step he took walking into the hospital, Tom could feel guilt rushing back to eat away at him. Seth was in here due to a ploy to get to him, after all.

But he couldn’t run away from his guilt, Tom knew. He’d tried, after Alex had died, and he’d damn near drowned in it. No, he had to face this. And that meant he had to face Seth.

He turned to Mike. The Secret Service Agent seemed solemn as he looked over at Seth’s room- Seth had many friends at the White House, it seemed. “I’ll go in alone,” Tom told him, and he wordlessly went to stand outside the door as Tom went in. There was a comfortable silence settled between Seth and Kendra, but the scraping of Kendra’s chair as she stood to greet him broke it. “Good evening, sir,” she said, and then turned back to Seth with a soft smile. “I’ll come back and see you soon, alright?” Seth sent her a small smile in return, but his eyes dropped to study the bedsheets as she left the room. Tom slowly made his way around the bed to sit where Kendra had been, trying not to stare as he took in Seth’s appearance. It was what he expected, but it still hurt to see. Guilt reared up its ugly head once again.

“How are you feeling?” Tom asked. Seth’s eyes flickered to the IV line pumping painkillers into his system. “They have me on the good drugs, so I’m alright.” he replied. Seth’s face was a blank slate as he stared down at his lap, and he didn’t say any more.

Here it goes, Tom thought. “Seth,” he began hesitantly, “what you went through...I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.” Seth gave a tight nod.

“It wasn’t your fault, sir,” he said tonelessly. Tom didn’t believe him. He didn’t think Seth believed himself. Seth finally looked up to meet Tom’s eyes, his expression deadly serious. “How did you find me?”

Tom relaxed slightly- this was easier territory. “Hannah Wells did. After she figured out the name of one of the terrorists, she was able to trace him to his property. That was where they were keeping you.”

“The dog tags?” 

Tom smiled. “Yes, the dog tags.” A suspicion that he’d been mulling over ever since seeing the third video rose to the forefront of his mind. “That was your plan when you threw yourself at Williams, wasn’t it? To show us the tags.” Seth’s lips quirked into a half smile, and Tom chuckled. Clever man. 

“It was a good plan. Whoever sent the video must have gotten careless, not realised that his name could be seen. Their key mistake was sending the video in the first place.”

At the mention of the videos, Seth tensed. “Who-who saw?” he asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Tom sighed. “The FBI, obviously, and people in National Security,” he began gently. “I saw all of them, and Emily and Lyor saw the first and some of the second. Nobody else. They didn’t get to the press.”

Seth nodded again, blinking furiously. His voice was wrung with tension when he then asked, “and what happened to...?”

“One’s dead and one’s in custody.” Tom said with grim satisfaction. “James Williams was the leader, we believe. The FBI is holding him until his sentencing. The other man was Oscar Morales. He-“

“The doctor,” Seth interrupted with a frown, something approaching sadness colouring his tone. “He’s dead?”

“He’s dead.” The silence following his confirmation was heavy, and Tom’s voice softened as he continued. “It’s over, Seth. Williams won’t be able to go anywhere near you again, so you can take it easy. Take as much time as you need, but your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

Tom ached to place a hand on Seth’s shoulder, but he sensed that his touch wouldn’t be welcomed. Instead, he simply said, “Seth, you’ve been through an ordeal, one that I couldn’t possibly begin to imagine. But you made it through. I just wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you.” Tom felt his throat closing up as he spoke, and he could see Seth’s eyes glinting with moisture. Seth didn’t reply and so Tom stood to leave. There was nothing else he could say.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: the cause of all of Seth’s deeply rooted insecurities...”drumroll” His parents!

After so many weeks stuck in a hospital gown, normal clothes felt like heaven against Seth’s skin. Pulling on his Harvard sweater was a process with his incisions still smarting at the stretch, but more than anything Seth was grateful that it was something he could do by himself. He was sick of the nurses constantly helping him sit up in bed or redressing his wounds- the sensation of unfamiliar hands touching his body made his skin crawl. Seth couldn’t wait to finally just go home. 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall. 9:47. Three minutes since he’d last looked at it. Checking the time had become a nervous tick that Seth had noticed in himself. It calmed his jittering nerves a little. It reminded him that if he wanted to know the time he didn’t have to rely on counting out the seconds in his head.

Or on the kindness of his captor.

Seth had studiously avoided dwelling on the doctor since the President had told him that he’d been killed. Even learning his name- Oscar Morales- had left Seth feeling a little uneasy. A name had given him a tangible identity, had made this news of his death a heavy weight in Seth’s chest. He wasn’t mourning him exactly, the memories of being offered water were as bitter as the memories of the beating that had come before. But the twisted way things had turned out left Seth feeling empty and hollowed out inside. Morales was dead, Williams was sitting safe in some cell, and Seth was left with scar crisscrossing his body and a head full of nightmares. The whole thing had been so fucking pointless.

Thinking about the doctor opened up another door in Seth’s mind that had formed when the President had mentioned the dog tags. He’d brought up a good point- surely they would have noticed that such a damming piece of evidence had made it through to the video when sending it? Williams and Morales might have been deluded, but they were far from stupid. Seth couldn’t help but wonder if the doctor had seen the tags and sent it anyway. Maybe that was why he’d let slip Williams’ name despite knowing that Seth could use it to identify him if he was released. Perhaps the man who had been so gentle when checking Seth’s injuries, who had looked so regretful as Seth begged him to let him go, had been able to help him after all.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on Seth’s part- not that it was making him happier now. If that was really what happened, then everything had ended far worse than Seth had initially thought. The worst part was that he would never know the truth. Seth sighed and looked at the clock again.

It said 9:49 now. His parents were coming at 10:30 to take him home, where they’d been staying since....well. Since everything happened. Mikey had left the week earlier- with med school, he couldn’t just drop everything and play nurse for his big brother. He wouldn’t stop apologising when he’d come to tell Seth. “You’re my brother,” he said despairingly, “I shouldn’t just- just abandon you!” Seth had to assure him that he‘d be fine- he was relieved, actually. Right then, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his pockets the way he always did when he was anxious, Mikey didn’t look like a cocky young med student. He was just Seth’s kid brother, and Seth wanted to protect him from all of this. He didn’t want to risk Mikey getting a glimpse of how Seth was really feeling inside.

A rap on the door caused Seth’s head to snap up, and to his surprise he saw his mum and dad standing at the doorway- they were early. He glanced at the clock to confirm, but his mind halted in confusion as he read the hands that very clearly said it was 10:28. It felt like he’d only checked the clock a few minutes ago, but Seth must had zoned out for nearly half an hour. That was alarming, but he tried to push it from his mind as he greeted his parents. Realising belatedly that he’d been standing idly in the middle of the room while lost in thought- that had been happening to him more and more often lately- which must have looked pretty odd, he hastily fixed a smile to his face. “Hey mum, hey dad.”

Mum returned his smile with a beaming intensity that only Naomi Wright could muster. “Oh, it’s good to see you on your feet again!” she exclaimed and bustled over, wrapping her arms around Seth before he knew what was happening. The unexpected touch caused Seth to flinch away, an instinctive movement, and his mum pulled back uncertainly. “Ah, sorry,” Seth said, forcing a chuckle. “Still a bit sore.” She smiled again, but it didn’t reach her eyes- Seth had never been able to lie to his mum. He felt sick frustration well up in the pit of his stomach- what was wrong with him, he couldn’t even hug his own mother- but he kept his face schooled in an expression of casual calmness. 

His dad, who up until that point had been standing back in silence, cleared his throat. “We should get you home then, son.” Seth nodded, acutely aware of the awkward tension in the room, and of the odd way his father was looking at him. He felt a little off balance, like his parents were strangers he didn’t know how to act around. No- it was more like he was the stranger, dropped back into a life that belonged to someone else. Suddenly, Seth felt a ridiculous urge to cry building up at the back of his throat. He fought it back. He couldn’t bear to do that to his mum and- well, Seth didn’t want to imagine what his dad would think if he suddenly burst into tears.

“Let’s go,” he managed, voice steadier than he felt.

The car ride home seemed to stretch on for eternity. Mum was desperate to fill the silence, asking Seth endless questions about work, bemoaning the quality of hospital food, tutting about the state of his beard. Seth gave half-hearted answers, without the energy to entertain his mum’s boundless attempts at cheering him up. His father said nothing the whole time, but Seth got the feeling that he was being watched through the rearview mirror. 

They finally pulled up in front of the apartment, hurrying inside to escape the slight drizzle coming down. Once they stepped inside, Seth was struck with a dizzying rush of fondness that he hadn’t expected. He didn’t particularly like this apartment- it went from being a sauna in summer to utterly freezing in winter, and was almost claustrophobically small- but stepping back into it drove his freedom home far more than the hospital ever did. It really was all over.

Seth’s fingers ghosted over the back of his couch- how many times had he ended up crashing after a long day at work here?- and he looked down the coffee table, spying his battered old copy of ‘The Hobbit,’ right where he’d last left it. He’d been trying to re-read it in his spare time. He’d never finished.

Seth left his parents in the living area and stepped into his bedroom. The bed had been made- courtesy of his mother, no doubt- but everything else was exactly as he’d left it. Sitting atop Seth’s chest of drawers were a cluttered mess of framed photos. There was one of him and Mikey when they were kids- he really had been a bit of a dork, Seth reflected laughingly- and one of him after graduating Harvard, grinning ear to ear. The one furthest to the right was more recent. It was only from a few months ago- the President had the Senior Staff over to the residency for drinks to celebrate Emily’s birthday. Mike had taken the photo of all of them squished together, slightly tipsy and grinning like loons- even Lyor had a smile on his face. Seth was in the middle of Aaron and Emily, with one arm slung around Aaron’s shoulders and the other wrapped around Emily’s waist. This was back when they were still dating, Seth remembered with a pang. They looked, in that photo, like they didn’t have a care in the world. 

The urge to cry returned, and Seth swiped at his eyes, blinking furiously. What would the Seth in that picture think of him now, he wondered.

The old floorboards creaked behind him, and Seth spun around to find his dad standing in the doorway, surveying his room with faint interest. He caught Seth staring, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your mother cleaned up a bit. Hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s-“ Seth’s voice came dangerously close to cracking, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. “It’s fine.”

His father nodded, crossing and uncrossing his arms uncomfortably. Seth realised with dismay that this was the first time he’d been alone with his dad for nearly two years. This really wasn’t how he’d expected their reunion to go. His dad spoke again. “So, you’re...doing better, then?”

No. “Yeah.”

“Good. We were..concerned, your mother and I. After what happened-“

“Dad,” Seth cut in, “We don’t need to talk about that.”

His father looked relieved. Seth supposed that he should be grateful that he was even making an effort. Stephen Wright wasn’t one for discussing feelings, especially not with his son. The same awkwardness from the hospital filled the air. It was almost suffocating. Seth had been happy to see his parents when he’d first woken up, back when everything was a blur of pain and still-fresh terror, and all he wanted was to know that he was safe. But now, Seth couldn’t bear to have their eyes on him all the time, waiting to see if he was about to break. He remembered his mum’s face when he’d flinched from her touch, felt guilt surge up like a dry heave. He didn’t want them to see him like this. And judging by the way his father was looking at him now, like he was some alien creature, he didn’t want to see Seth like this either.

“Dad,” Seth began cautiously, “I think it’d be best for you and mum to leave now.” He continued hurriedly before his dad could interject. “It’s just...I’m trying to get back to normal, y’know? I don’t want to dwell. And I think it would be easier if-“

“I understand, son.” his father cut in, nodding firmly. This was probably the first time he approved of one of Seth’s decisions, he thought bitterly. “No sense in lying around feeling sorry for yourself. Getting back into the saddle and all that. Your mother might not like it, though.”

“I’m sure you can convince her.”

He did, eventually, although his mum wouldn’t concede without a fight. Eventually, she just sighed. “If that’s what you think you need.” Seth stepped forward to hug his mum this time, bracing himself for her arms to land on his back- he could take touch when he expected it. For a split second Seth regretted his decision as his mum tightened her embrace, the smell of her perfume bringing back a flood of childhood memories of being comforted just like this, but he didn’t say anything. He was doing this for her, after all.

There were tears in her eyes as she pulled back, and she patted his cheek. “You take care of yourself now, love,” she urged, “and if you need anything at all, you call me. Okay?”

“I got it,” he smiled. “Love you, mum.”

“I love you too, Seth.” Seth turned to his dad, unsure of how this goodbye would go. Seth’s dad opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but changed his mind, settling instead for clapping Seth on the shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you, son.” As they headed out the door, Seth could make out the faint sounds of his mum crying.

Seth waited until their footsteps had faded out of hearing range behind his closed door before he dragged himself back to his bedroom. He wasn’t physically tired, but he felt like the whole day had just drained away his willingness to do anything. He felt numb. Seth collapsed onto the mattress, letting his gaze fall back to the photos on the chest. Younger Seth stared back at him, eyes alight under his graduation cap. Back then, he never would have imagined that something so terrible could have happened to him, that he’d end up like this.

Seth’s shoulders were shaking, chest tight, and as hot wetness spilled down his cheeks he realised that he was crying. A shaky sob burst from his lips, followed by another, muffled as he buried his face in his pillow. His ribs ached slightly as he sucked in breaths but the pain of bitter regret overshadowed it. This wasn’t how his life was supposed to end up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Seth’s parents are called Naomi and Stephen. I’m still slightly bitter over the writers changing Seth’s backstory from having Muslim immigrant parents to a non-muslim adoptive family so I’ve decided to lean into it by giving his parents the whitest names possible.


	10. Chapter 10

Seth lay listlessly on the couch, watching the flickering forms on his television with only passing interest. He didn’t even know what was playing- some reality show maybe? He’d just turned on the TV so there’d be something to fill the empty silence of the room. He could read, Seth supposed, eyeing the book lying within arm’s reach, but he doubted his mind would be able to fix on the words.

After his parents left Seth had stayed curled up in bed for nearly half the day. He’d cried for a good hour, something that he hadn’t done since that last awful day in the basement, not properly. He’d sobbed until his stomach hurt and all that came out of his throat were gasping breaths, and then he simply lay there. Seth found it a little disturbing how easily he could lose hours to rumination these days. His thoughts had swung wildly from reliving his three days of torment- the first moments of waking up in the room, the conversations he’d had with Williams- to recalling faded childhood memories, times that seemed achingly far out of reach now, all as the hours slipped by unnoticed.

He’d eventually dragged himself out of bed out of some feeling of obligation to do something. Seth had wandered through his tiny apartment, opening up cupboards and going through his bookshelf in some irrational desire to make sure everything he owned was still there. That quickly grew boring and Seth had flopped down onto the couch, flicking on the TV so he could at least pretend he was doing something. The future seemed to stretch out, gaping and unfathomable, before Seth. When he’d been in the room, all Seth had cared about was getting out. But now that he was out of the room, out of the hospital, Seth was overcome by a peculiar aimlessness that he’d never felt before. Hopefully going back to work would snap him back to normal, but he’d been instructed by the doctors to wait at least a week. He’d done most of his recovering from surgery while at the hospital, but they still wanted him to give his wounds time to heal further. Besides, apparently Seth needed time to ‘mentally acclimatise.’

A stab of impatience shot through Seth at the thought. The best way to ‘mentally acclimatise,’ he thought, was to get himself back into his normal routine as soon as possible. The sooner he could get to putting all of this behind him, the better. Seth hadn’t been lying to his father when he’d said that he didn’t want to dwell.

The sound of thunder growled under the low voices from the TV, and Seth felt himself relax marginally as he listened to the storm that had formed since his parents left. Seth usually found the rain to be more an annoyance than anything else, preferring either warm sunlight or a good snowfall in winter, but right now he found the rhythmic drumming of raindrops against the windows soothing. It had rained while he was in the room, apparently. He hadn’t heard it.

The tapping of the rain seemed to get a lot more insistent, and Seth listened in mild confusion for a few moments before realising that the sound was actually someone knocking on his door. Reluctantly, Seth heaved himself off the couch and cautiously approached the door. The memory of being approached by a stranger and then being drugged slithered insidiously into the forefront of Seth’s mind, and he froze for a few seconds before gathering the courage to look through the peephole.

It was Kendra. Seth blinked in surprise, but unlocked the door and swung it open without hesitation. Her hair glinted with raindrops and she looked utterly worn, but she gave him a warm smile. “Hey, Seth,” she greeted, “mind if I come in?” Seth wordlessly stepped aside. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?” Kendra asked with sudden concern, looking up and down at his rumpled clothes and his tired, red-rimmed eyes. Crap, she could probably tell he’d been crying. “I would have called but you don’t have a phone anymore, so..”

Right. Seth’s phone had been smashed and dumped in Williams’ trash. Seth shook his head as he closed the door behind her. “No, I was just-“ lying on the couch doing fuck-all- “watching TV.” Seth couldn’t help the quizzical look he gave Kendra as he turned back around. “It’s, um, good to see you, but why’re you here?”

“Your mum called me,” Kendra said simply. “She’s worried about you, so I figured we could have dinner together? I would have come earlier, but some stuff came up at the White House, and then...” She held up her hands, and for the first time Seth noticed the plastic shopping bags she was holding. 

Seth considered. Being around Kendra didn’t feel like it was with his parents- she didn’t seem to expect anything from him, which was nice. And having someone to talk to might keep his thoughts from drifting too far into places he didn’t want them to go. He shrugged somewhat apologetically as he glanced down at the bags full of food. “You didn’t have to bring all this. I was just going to get takeout.” Actually, Seth probably would have gone to sleep without eating anything, but Kendra didn’t need to know that.

Kendra’s face broke out into a smirk and she shook her head as she dumped the bags on his kitchen counter. “Oh no,” she said sternly, “this is your first night out of hospital, there’s no way you’re having Chinese. Tonight you will be eating,” Kendra paused dramatically as she pulled out a packet of elbow pasta, “minestrone!”

Seth couldn’t help but smile back at the lawyer, and went to the kitchen cabinet to pull out a large saucepan. He handed it over to Kendra and set to work slicing up carrots. Seth loved cooking, but he almost never got the chance with his job. This, chopping vegetables in comfortable silence with Kendra beside him, almost made Seth feel normal. Almost.

“So,” Seth said, scooping the finely chopped carrot into a pile and starting on the celery, “my mum seems to like you.”

“Yeah, she’s lovely,” Kendra smiled. “I see where you got your optimistic streak from. We met at the hospital when you were in surgery.” The words were so casual coming out of her mouth, it didn’t seem like they were talking about the night he’d been rescued, half-dead, from a terrorist’s basement. “I’m glad you were there with her,” Seth said quietly, thanks clear in his words.

Kendra looked at Seth with soft eyes. “She just wants to help you, Seth. You’re her son.” So clearly Kendra didn’t agree with Seth sending his parents back home, and he squirmed a little under her gaze. He sighed. “I don’t want to upset her. It’s better that she doesn’t see me..like this.” Kendra let out an unconvinced hum, but thankfully didn’t push the subject.

They lapsed back into quiet, and Seth chewed his lip, gripping the handle of the knife forcefully. He could still hear his mother’s sniffles as she and his father walked out the door- Seth hated making her cry. Maybe he should call her? Just to reassure her that he was doing alright alone. Seth didn’t make a regular habit of calling his mother though, so that could cause her to worry further. No, he should just leave things as they were; his dad would take care of her. 

“Seth,” Kendra prompted, startling him out of his musings, and Seth looked down to see that he’d abandoned the leek half way through chopping it. “Oh, right,” he muttered, flushing slightly. He’d drifted off again.

Seth finished preparing the vegetables in silence and Kendra tipped them into the saucepan, stirring them around. Despite planning on going without dinner that night, Seth’s stomach growled as the aroma hit his nose. He leaned up against the fridge, watching Kendra as she worked at the stove. Kendra had visited him the most out of everyone while he was at the hospital, so being with her then was comforting in its familiarity.

“I was thinking,” Kendra spoke up suddenly as she poured in the pasta with the stock and canned tomatoes, “maybe you’d want me to spend the night. I’m an excellent houseguest- you won’t even know I’m here,” she joked. Seth blinked, mulling over the unexpected offer. Nights at the hospital had been hell- he’d wake up screaming, disoriented and convinced that his rescue had all been some fever dream he’d conjured up, until one of the nurses forced him back under with a sedative. As much as being back home comforted Seth, the thought of waking up alone in this apartment sent his stomach into a spasm of nerves. “That...that would be good. Thanks.”

Kendra took the saucepan off the heat and took out two bowls to ladle the soup into. Her voice was a touch hesitant when she next spoke. “Emily offered to come instead, you know.”

That surprised Seth. Emily hadn’t come to see him nearly as much as Kendra, and the visits had always left Seth with a bad taste in his mouth. At first Seth had put it down to lingering awkwardness from their break up, but it was more than that. Her conversations with him were short and strained, and sometimes he would pick up on something else lurking beneath her facade. There was a certain way that she looked at him, like her eyes went past where he was lying in the hospital and went straight back to how he was in that room, chained and bloody. She did well to hide her horror, but Seth could see it in her eyes. He much preferred it when Emily brought Lyor along- the other man seemed to barely notice Seth was in hospital at all, chattering on about the current runnings of the White House. Seth welcomed the distraction, it kept him from thinking about the way Emily’s eyes wouldn’t meet his.

Seth carefully tucked away his discomfort as Kendra handed him a bowl of steaming soup and they went to sit at his tiny table. “I, uh, I’m sure Emily’s really busy,” he muttered into his bowl, “wouldn’t want to take her away from her work.”

“But stealing me away is fine,” Kendra teased gently. There was a knowing look in her eyes though. Maybe she’d noticed the way Emily had been acting as well. Seth took a spoonful of minestrone into his mouth, and his eyes blew wide open as his taste buds were overwhelmed by the cacophony of flavours. Okay, yeah, this was way better than takeout. “Oh wow,” he mumbled around his spoon, immediately swallowing so he could take another mouthful. Kendra grinned as she took a bite, closing her eyes contentedly as she swallowed. “Good, huh?” she said after she was done. “This is one of my favourite dishes.”

“Old family recipe?”

Kendra laughed. “Oh god no. I wish my family was that cultured. No, you can thank my trusty cookbook for this.”

Seth grinned. He felt his heart growing lighter and lighter as dinner went on, Emily pushed to the back of his mind. Casual conversation spilled out between them, about how Kendra’s day had been, how everyone else was doing. Kendra seemed to dance effortlessly around the subject of Seth’s kidnapping, switching to another topic whenever they edged dangerously close to something Seth was uncomfortable with. She would make a great Press Secretary, he thought.

Suddenly Seth’s throat seized up and he barely had enough time to bury his mouth in his elbow before he erupted in coughs. The doctors had assured him that his pneumonia was pretty much gone, but the damn cough had stuck around. He squeezed his eyes shut against the force of his coughing, only vaguely noticing that Kendra had gotten up from the table and rushed into the kitchen. Seth finally got his coughing under control, gulping in great lungfuls of air as Kendra came back out carrying a glass of water, mouth twisted in a frown of concern.

“Drink this, Seth.”

-“Drink this,” the doctor had said, holding the water bottle up to Seth’s lips. “You need to stay hydrated.”-

Seth blinked owlishly at Kendra, reeling from the snippet of memory that struck him like a slap in the face. Kendra’s frown deepened as Seth stayed frozen in his chair, not responding. “Seth, are you okay?”

With a sharp intake of breath, Seth nodded, reaching out to take the glass. “Yeah,” he said shakily, “t-thanks.” He gripped the cup tightly as he drank to stop his hand from trembling. An ugly wave of uneasiness rose up inside him like a sludge, drowning out the contentment Seth had been feeling just seconds previously. He was annoyed at the way a few words could upturn an entire good evening, but more than anything Seth felt very, very tired.

He scooped up his empty bowl and went into the kitchen, dropping it into the sink with a clatter. He could clean up tomorrow. Seth carefully ignored Kendra’s concerned eyes following him, stopping only to say, “I’m actually pretty tired, so..” before going through to his bedroom. Opening up his wardrobe, he dug out some spare blankets and a pillow and headed back out to the living area. Kendra took the pile from his arms with a small smile of thanks, but her eyes still betrayed her worry. Seth shifted awkwardly where he stood. “Goodnight, Kendra.”

Her quiet response followed him back into his bedroom. “Goodnight, Seth.”

Seth could barely muster the effort to kick off his shoes as he collapsed into bed. Thankfully, the day’s events seemed to catch up to him all at once, slamming into him like a tidal wave of exhaustion. For once, he was too tired for the incessant swirl of memories to take root, and as soon as his eyes slipped closed, Seth was asleep.

...

“Please, you don’t have to do this!” Seth heard himself shriek as the masked man pressed the gun against his temple. Everything in his head was gone except white-hot panic, and his incessant ramblings fell silent as he held his breath, waiting for the end. It never came. Instead, when he cracked his eyes open, the man was crouched in front of him with a switchblade dangling from his fingers, glinting menacingly in the dingy half-light.

“Maybe I should cut out your tongue,” he whispered, rancid breath hot against Seth’s cheek.

The blade pierced Seth’s bare flesh, blood trailing down his chest, and Seth was screaming screaming screaming-

“Seth!”

Seth’s eyes flew open as he rocketed up into a sitting position, breathing ragged. His limbs flailed- why couldn’t he move he had to get out had to- before he realised that his legs were tangled in his sweat soaked sheets. Over the thundering of his heartbeat, Seth could faintly hear someone speaking to him in a frantic murmur.

“...Seth, it’s okay! It’s okay, it was just a nightmare! You’re safe, you’re safe...”

Tentatively, as though any sudden movements would throw him back into the room from his nightmare, Seth turned his head to see Kendra crouched by his bed, eyes like saucers. Her hand was frozen in the air in some aborted attempt at touching him that she’d thought better of. 

“Kendra,” her name tore from his lips like a plea, but Seth didn’t know what he was asking for. His throat closed back up and he couldn’t say anything else, just let out a stream of air from his nostrils. His whole body was shaking. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Kendra remaining a silent presence next to Seth as he tried to calm the panic racing through his veins. He was safe. He was at home. He was with Kendra.

Kendra’s voice broke the heavy silence of the room. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Seth could only shake his head mutely. After a few moments, Kendra asked, “can I...can I touch you?”

Seth breathed in, breathed out, breathed in again. Hesitantly, he nodded his head, and Kendra slowly crawled onto the bed with him so their shoulders were pressed together. Kendra tentatively snaked her arms around his trembling form, Seth nearly gasping at the contact. His muscles gradually relaxed and Seth leaned into the embrace, letting his head drop into the crook of Kendra’s neck. He could feel her chin resting gently atop his head, her pulse fluttering against his cheek, and he blinked back a few tears. It was so good to feel a touch from someone who he trusted, someone who would never hurt him.

Kendra tightened her arms around Seth, their breaths slowly mingling to become one as the minutes of the night ticked by.


	11. Chapter 11

For a moment after Seth woke up he had no idea where he was. The mattress was feathery soft and far bigger than the hospital bed he was used to, and after a few seconds it clicked- Seth was at home. Seth glanced next to him and saw that he was alone. Obviously. Kendra had stayed with him until he managed to fall back into a fitful sleep last night, but there was no reason why she wouldn’t return to the couch after that- Seth felt a creeping embarrassment come over him at even thinking that she might have stayed.

Seth compulsively checked the digital clock on the bedside table- 8:45 . He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in that long. But despite managing to get a good few hours of sleep after first waking from the nightmare, he still felt tired down to his bones. He contemplated just staying in bed, but the smell of brewing coffee wafting through from the kitchen forced him out from under the covers. Kendra was still here, apparently. Still in the same clothes from the day before- Seth hadn’t bothered to change before going to sleep- he padded through to the living room. 

Kendra glanced up from pouring coffee into two mugs as he came in. “Good, I was just about to wake you.” Her smile was a bit strained. Seth practically collapsed at the kitchen table, looking her up and down curiously. “You aren’t at the White House?” Kendra sighed through her nose. “I will be,” she said, in a way that made Seth suspect she’d rather not be going at all. “Cream and two sugars, right?”

“Thanks,” Seth said, and Kendra stirred in the sugar before placing the coffee down in front of him. She let him take a long drink of the steaming beverage before speaking again. “Hannah texted me last night; she wants to ask you some questions. We’re supposed to be at her office at 10.”

Seth’s lips pressed into a thin line against the chipped rim of his mug. He knew that this was coming, but it didn’t stop the swirling mix of dread and irritation in the pit of his stomach. The last thing Seth wanted to do today was go back over the worst moments of his life.

Kendra seemed to sense what he was thinking. “I’m sorry,” she sighed heavily. “I know this is hard, but it has to happen. I’d convinced her to wait until after you got out of the hospital, but we really can’t keep delaying.”

‘Oh, well I’m so sorry for putting Agent Wells out,’ Seth thought sarcastically. It was an unexpectedly bitter thought, so instead he simply asked, “you’re coming?” Kendra nodded, sipping her own coffee. “Well, I’m driving you, and I need to see her about the trial, anyway.” Of course, the trial. The idea of Kendra having to actually prove in court that the man who had brutalised Seth for three straight days was guilty was so ridiculous to Seth that he’d almost forgotten it was happening. At least, with Kendra representing him, Seth had no doubt that Williams would be locked away for a very long time.

Seth drained the last of his coffee and slammed the mug back down on the table a little harder than he’d intended. It had barely taken the edge off his tiredness. “Fine,” he muttered, pushing his chair back to stand as Kendra looked back at him with a mixture of regret and apprehension on her face. “I’ll go take a shower.”

Seth slouched into the bathroom, stopping short as he caught his own eye in the mirror. He studied his reflection with a tense curiosity. There was still a dappling of faint bruises smudging his right cheekbone and around the hollows of his eye, but the swelling was gone, thankfully. Seth ran his unbroken hand over his chin. Right at the left corner of his mouth, almost obscured by his beard, was a small scar, white and raised beneath his fingers. That would stay with him forever.

Seth’s throat bobbed nervously as he swallowed. The small nick wasn’t the only scar on his body. He turned away from the mirror and kept his eyes fixed steadily in front of him as he undressed. He would be fine as long as he didn’t look. Seth twisted the taps, letting the water run over his fingers until it was comfortably warm and then slipping under the stream. The water felt amazing against his skin, the heat seeping deep into his knotted muscles and lifting the fog of drowsiness until Seth felt somewhat ready to face the day. 

Gingerly, he began to soap up his body, skimming over the scars wrapping around his chest and stomach as quickly as possible. At one point his eyes slipped down and caught a glimpse of one of the puckered scars trailing down his chest, dark and obscene against his skin. The sight sent an electric shock through Seth and he almost lost his grip on the soap. He continued on with his eyes closed. Scrubbing himself down with the washcloth was easier, the barrier of cloth between skin helping Seth to forget for a moment what lay beneath. The stale sweat lingering from last night had been swept away, and Seth contentedly rolled his neck, tilting his face back so it was directly underneath the spray.

As the stream of water hit his face, Seth’s eyes snapped open, all traces of relaxation gone. Rivulets of water sprayed into his mouth, flooding his throat, and suddenly Seth was there again. He was back in that room, hands fastened tight behind his back, powerless as his captor thrust his head down into a bucket of water. The rush of warm shower water cascading down Seth’s back faded forgotten into the background. Seth could feel the rough concrete against his knees and the iron grip of Williams’ hand around the back of his neck, and he gaped soundlessly as his lungs screamed for air that couldn’t be found...

The shower was the first thing to come back. Seth blinked water droplets from his eyelashes as the water hitting his shoulders slowly sharpened into clear focus, the stone floor of the room slipping away to be replaced by white bathroom tiles. He was kneeling on the floor of the shower with his nose an inch away from the glass door, and as Seth felt a shiver roll through him he realised that the water had gone cold. How long had he been crouched there? He didn’t even remember falling down. All he remembered was being back with Williams and the bucket, but that was impossible. It had felt so real.

“Seth?” Kendra’s voice called through the door with a note of concern. “Are you nearly done? We should probably leave soon.”

Seth stood up on wobbling legs and shut the taps off, shaking water out of his eyes. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he called out hoarsely, hoping Kendra couldn’t hear the shakiness in his voice. He rested his forehead against the slick shower door, letting out long, measured breaths that fogged up the glass beneath his lips. This, the cool glass against his skin and the slippery tile beneath his feet, this was real. Seth stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, eyes steadfastly fixed on the doorknob. Then he hastily threw on the fresh set of clothes he’d brought with him. Jeans and a sweatshirt would have to do- Seth hoped the FBI wasn’t expecting him to dress up for the occasion.

Kendra eyed him as he came out of the bathroom, already waiting at the door with her bag over her shoulder. “You’ll run up one hell of a water bill with showers like that” she teased, but she couldn’t completely disguise the shadow of worry in her eyes. Seth could only muster a mechanical smile in response.

...

 

It felt strange to walk into the White House with no intention of working. Seth kept his head down as he walked with Kendra, not in the mood to speak to anybody- he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Luckily, they didn’t run into anyone they knew as they bypassed the usual way into the West Wing, instead taking the route to Hannah Wells’ office. Seth had never been there before and he couldn’t help but glance around curiously as they walked in.

Hannah was alone in the office, and she offered them a polite smile as she stood up to greet them. “Kendra, Mr Wright, thanks for coming in on such short notice.” She fixed her eyes on Seth specifically. “Mr Wright, you look well.” Seth had to resist rolling his eyes- it would be hard to look worse than how he did the last time Agent Wells had seen him. When Seth didn’t reply, there was an awkward beat of silence before Hannah gestured for them to sit down. “I just need to ask you a few questions to ascertain exactly what happened between Tuesday the 17th and Friday the 20th.”

“You have the videos, don’t you?” Seth snapped peevishly, growing suddenly hot under his sweatshirt. He really didn’t want to do this.

Hannah’s expression didn’t change. “They only show part of what happened. We need you to fill in the gaps. We want to make sure that Williams and Morales didn’t have any larger plan, or any other associates who might try to continue their mission. Your testimony could help with that.” Hannah’s eyes flicked over to Kendra for a second before returning to Seth. “Miss Daynes can remain here if you like, both as your legal counsel and moral support.”

“No.”

Kendra looked surprised and even a little hurt at his sharp reply. Seth knew that Kendra would see the videos as part of evidence, and she’d likely have access to this transcript for the trial as well, but at least Seth wouldn’t have to be there for it. He wouldn’t have to see the horror and awful pity cross her face as she heard and saw what happened to him. Right now, Seth wouldn’t be able to handle it.

He turned to Kendra, hoping she understood what he was trying not to say. I can’t bear to see you look at me like that. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured her. Kendra nodded reluctantly. “I’ll be outside,” she told him. After she left the room, Hannah and Seth sat in silence for a few moments with the recorder on the table between them; Seth feeling rather like a beaten dog backed into a corner. 

Hannah switched on the recorder and spoke in a clear voice, “Special Agent Hannah Wells interviewing Mr Seth Wright in the case of James Williams versus the state,” then added the date and location. “Mr Wright, to the best of your recollection, can you tell me what happened on the night of Tuesday the 17th of November?”

Seth strained his memory. He recalled snippets of words, brief flashes of walking, being approached by a man, but it was hard to focus on through the haze of drugs that he’d been injected with that night. “I was walking home,” he began uncertainly, “from the station. I was nearly at my apartment, but...a man called out to me.”

“Was this man James Williams?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“What happened then?”

“I, uh, I asked him what he wanted, I think, and then I felt this pain in my neck, and someone grabbed me from behind. I-I think I was drugged.” Seth frowned. “I don’t remember anything after that..”

“That’s fine,” Hannah interjected smoothly. “You said that someone grabbed you. Did you see anybody else, or was it just those two?”

“I didn’t see anyone else.”

Hannah nodded, pursing her lips. “What’s the next thing you remember?”

Cold ran through Seth’s blood as he remembered. “I-I woke up in some room. There weren’t any windows or a clock or anything, so I didn’t know what time it was. I was....I was handcuffed.” Seth hated how scared he sounded. “The chain was looped around this bar on the wall. And then two guys came in.”

“Were these the same two men who intercepted you?”

Seth shrugged, “I didn’t see the one who grabbed me, but yeah, the other guy was the one who I talked to. Williams.”

“You saw his face?”

“No,” Seth was growing impatient, shifting around in his seat. “He was wearing a mask, but I could just tell. The way he moved was the same. The way he...looked at me.” Like Seth was a trapped mouse and he was a snake, ready to strike.

Hannah laced her fingers together on the table, waiting patiently for him to continue. Seth took a deep breath as the memories of what came next flooded through him. “The other guy, Morales, he had a camera, and he was filming Williams holding his gun at my head. “It was an-“ Seth choked on the next words, “-execution video, or they pretended it was. He- he pulled the trigger but nothing...nothing happened.” Seth could still taste the panic, thick and rancid on his tongue, as he had realised that he was about to die. He dropped his gaze to where his hands were balled into tight fists on the table. His sleeve had slipped down and Seth could make out the dark outline of where the handcuffs had cut into his wrists, still visible on his skin. He didn’t look back up as Hannah spoke, voice changing from brusque to gentle. “We can take a break.” Seth shook his head, swallowing before he continued on. “So, nothing happened, and he started saying....well, you saw it.” Seth was only going to say as much as he needed to, and there was no way in hell We was going to go back over what had happened in those videos.

“We had three videos sent to us.” Hannah said, “Did anything happen between the filming of these? Did either of them say anything to you?”

Seth nodded slowly. “Yeah, uh, the doctor- Morales, he gave me water and treated my injuries. Well, tried to anyway. And Williams...” The other man had only visited Seth once in between filming, and their exchange still made his stomach twist. “He talked to me about our government, how corrupt and evil it is for keeping Kerrin locked up, said all this bullshit about Kerrin ‘doing what he needed to do.’”

“So he only mentioned Kerrin as a motivator? No other reasons?”

“No.”

“Did he mention any other people who might have been involved, besides himself and Oscar Morales?”

“He didn’t say anything else to me, okay?” Seth snapped. He was tired, he was practically vibrating with anxiety, and he just wanted to go home. Hannah could sense that he was close to bolting out the office door, so she quickly pushed on. “Just one more thing. Did anything else of note happen, that you can remember? Anything at all.”

Seth remembered the wet squelch as Williams had tossed a burger to the ground at his feet and ordered him to eat it, and the sickly taste of the cold, dried out meat as he’d forced it down his throat. More than anything, Seth remembered the burning mortification as he lowered himself to the floor, pressing his cheek against the dirty floor just to be able to eat.

“Mr Wright?”

Seth gave the agent a hard smile. “No, nothing else. Are we done here?”

...

Kendra had been wringing her hands furiously as she stood waiting outside, but she immediately snapped to attention when Seth stepped out of Hannah’s office. “All done?”

“Yeah. Can we leave?”

“..Right.” 

Kendra called through to Hannah, who was standing just inside the doorway, “I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll talk then.” Seth was already stalking down the hall. He was itching to move, to be anywhere but here. All the old fear and shame and anger that had been building since he’d first woken up in that damn room was now simmering just under the surface, and he felt like an exposed wire. Seth powered forward, out of the building and to Kendra’s waiting car, pacing impatiently until Kendra caught up. They drove in silence. Kendra didn’t bother with small talk or, even worse, asking about the interview. Seth wouldn’t have answered her even if she did. He was pretty sure that if he opened his mouth he’d end up screaming, or crying, or maybe both. 

Finally, they slowed to a stop outside Seth’s apartment, but before he could jump out, Kendra called his name. “Dinner again tonight?” she asked, a plea in her eyes. She wanted to make sure he was okay, but Seth was choking on the end of his tether- he’d had enough of...of everything. And that included Kendra.

“I’d rather not,” he bit out, one hand on the car door handle, ready to make his escape. Kendra opened her mouth to protest, but Seth beat her to the mark. “I just want to be alone, Kendra!” It came out as a strangled snarl, and Kendra’s eyes widened a fraction before her face turned carefully blank. “Okay,” she said, voice low and measured, the way she’d spoken to the President in the weeks after Alex had died when he was half mad with grief, ready to lash out at a moment’s notice. “I’ll leave you alone tonight. But Seth, you can’t keep pushing people away. We want to help you- all of us do.”

Just watch me, Seth couldn’t help but think as he stepped out of the car, giving Kendra a curt nod goodbye. Sure, they all wanted to help, but nobody could even begin to try. They had no idea what was going on in Seth’s head, and even if he wanted to he wouldn’t have the words to explain. How could they ever understand what it was like to be a breath away from death, drowning in a sea of fear and pain with no land in sight? Hell, Emily could barely look at him, there’s no way she’d ever be able to help him.

No, it was better that Kendra just left him be. After all, Seth thought with a vicious thrill of resentment, she could just have a normal day. Kendra could go home, curl up and watch a movie with her cat and forget, even for a little while, that anything was wrong- she could be happy. But Seth was trapped as surely as when he’d been in handcuffs, shackled by memories that wouldn’t let him be.

Seth slammed the door of his apartment behind him, surveying the tiny living space before him. Empty. In an instant, all of Seth’s anger was sucked out of him like water down a drain, and he was left with a hollow numbness. Seth let the back of his head thump against his door, his entire body suddenly feeling like it was being weighed down with sand. These swooping mood swings were exhausting. A drop of guilt rippled through the pool of emptiness in his chest as Seth thought about Kendra. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but the damage had been done.

Seth dully realised that he was hungry, but the thought of ordering food, or doing anything at all, really, was too much at the moment. The tiredness from the morning had surged back, causing Seth to stumble to the couch. Maybe he could rest, just for a little bit....

...

-pain bursts like fireworks behind his eyelids blistering burning and all he sees is red on red on red on gleaming silver flashing through the air again and again as the devil in the grey mask stands above him laughing no please no no nononononono-

Seth gasped himself awake, shivering under a film of cold sweat. That nightmare was more disjointed than the last, and he could only recall brief snatches, but his stuttering heartbeat remembered the terror. The living room was swathed in fading afternoon light- had he really been asleep that long? Loneliness settled like falling ash, and Seth suddenly missed Kendra more than he could breathe. But she wasn’t here, because Seth had sent her away. Seth pulled himself up, trying in vain to stop the shaking that quaked through him. He needed something to still the tremors in his hands and the rattling in his chest. He needed something to make him forget the utter misery of his life right now. He needed a drink.

Seth dragged himself over to the fridge, pulling out the six-pack. He didn’t trust his trembling hands not to spill anything if he tried to pour out some vodka, but he could handle a can of beer. Or four. He must have looked pretty pathetic, Seth reflected, slumped back on the couch with a can raised fitfully to his lips. But what did it matter? 

There was nobody there, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

Seth let out a hiss of frustration as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. The cast on the three broken fingers of his right hand was supposed to be ‘sleek and unobtrusive’ to make the use of his two good fingers easier, but all it did was add to the clunkiness of his movements. Still, Seth pushed on. A sweatshirt might have been good enough for Hannah Wells, but he was going to put in at least some effort for his meeting with the President.

It had been ten days since Seth was released from the hospital, and he was itching to go back to work. The last week had crawled on slowly, like time spent watching a leaky roof drip into a bucket, filling it inch by inch. Some days Seth had felt- well, not normal, but at least fully awake to the world, and he’d left his apartment full of restless energy. He bought a new phone, eyes furtive and ever watchful of the strangers surrounding him- even the most innocuous of people could be a threat, he knew that now. But otherwise he stayed indoors, caught up in the grey of his numb days. Seth would find himself lying in bed for hours, watching the digital glare of the alarm clock as time slipped away from him, or else he’d pace sluggishly around his living room, feeling like he ought to do something but unsure of what. He’d tried following the news, or reading, but everything felt so unsubstantial and transient. Eventually his mind would go back to the time before, the pain, the fear. Seth had the feeling of being stranded in quicksand, and if he stayed like this any longer he’d eventually be sucked under completely.

So, back to work then. It was the only solution in Seth’s eyes. A return to normalcy. His friends coming to see him had helped a little- Kendra mostly, sometimes with Lyor. Aaron a few times as well, and on one occasion, Emily- but more than anything it made Seth feel like a hospice patient. Their constant side-long glances of concern sparked up irritation inside him, as if they thought he was a second away from crumbling. But going back to work, yes, that would show them that he was holding himself together. Finally, Seth could reclaim his old life.

Seth finally did up the last of his buttons, daring a glance in the bathroom mirror as he rather pointlessly straightened his cuffs. The last of the bruising had finally faded away, and apart from the cast on his hand and the barely noticeable scar on his lip, he looked perfectly normal. A bit tired, perhaps, but anyone who worked at the White House looked like that, so Seth figured he could get away with it. He’d even showered- it had taken Seth three days to brave the shower after the first time, but he’d gotten the hang of it now. Water on low intensity, with him hunched over to keep the spray away from his face, and the lights turned off so he wouldn’t risk glancing at himself in the mirror. 

Seth tested out a smile, and for an instant he looked how he had before, what felt like a lifetime ago. Hopefully the President would see the same thing when he asked to come back. Seth knew that he should really by talking to Emily about coming back to work rather than bothering the Commander-In-Chief, but he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her unconvincing charade of nonchalance that day. But, in all honesty, Seth wasn’t sure if he was ready to face the President either.

His anger at the President had built up so subtly that Seth didn’t even fully realise that it was there until Kendra had made an offhand comment about Tom asking about him a few days ago. It was an ugly feeling, steeped in hopeless, irrational resentment, but Seth latched onto it ferociously. It made sense, in some twisted way. The anger that bubbled up around Kendra and Emily and Lyor always left him with a guilty aftertaste- they’d done all they were able to. But Tom, Tom was the goddamn President, and he still hadn’t been able to save him from three days of hell.

Seth closed his eyes for a second, cooling his temper. He couldn’t let the President see this. Tom needed to believe that Seth was ready to come back. And Seth...Seth needed to believe it too.

...

“Seth!” Tom greeted him, smiling warmly as Seth entered the Oval Office. “It’s good to see you back in the White House.”

“It’s good to be back, sir.” Seth replied with an awkward smile. It wasn’t a lie; Seth had missed the energetic pulse of the White House. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to return to work as your Press Secretary.”  
Tom’s genial smile faltered, and he took off his glasses to level Seth with a critical eye. Seth shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I...appreciate that you want to jump back into work. But you went through a lot, Seth. Don’t you think you should give yourself some time?”

“I’ve had time. Nearly four weeks of it.” Seth carefully kept his voice steady. He was sick to death of people saying he needed more time. Time was his enemy. Time was what kept him dwelling, kept him stuck in the past. “Sir, you told me that my job would be waiting for me when I was ready. Well, I’m ready now.” When Tom still looked unconvinced, Seth added in, “Please.” He was used to begging now.

Tom sighed deeply, latticing his fingers together on his desk as he mulled over his next words. “Seth,” he began delicately, “are you seeing someone? A therapist, I mean.” There it was again. Kendra had brought up the idea of Seth seeking therapy more than once, and Seth had always brushed her off. It wasn’t that Seth didn’t think he needed it- god knows his depressive moods were indication enough, even without the flashbacks and nightmares he’d been having- but the idea of somebody poking around in his mind repelled him. He was scared of what they might find, scared that a therapist would confirm what he already suspected in the deepest recesses of his mind- that Seth was more wounded animal than person now.

Seth’s silence was all the answer Tom needed. The President nodded slowly, eyes brimming with understanding. “When Alex died,” he said softly, “I pushed away everything and everyone. I was convinced that the grief I was feeling was something I needed to handle on my own. But all that did was bury me further beneath it. I only started to move on when I accepted help.”

Seth remembered that time vividly. The President had been a mess- there were points where he and the rest of the Senior Staff weren’t sure if he’d be able to continue on as President. Looking at Tom now though, the broken man he’d once been seemed more like a shadow of the past. Seth tried to see himself how Tom was now in a year, or five. But he couldn’t imagine feeling any way but how he felt now. It was a harrowing thought.

“This isn’t the same thing, sir,” Seth said stiffly.

“No, it isn’t.” Tom acknowledged. “I can’t pretend to know how you’re feeling right now. But I do know that therapy can do nothing but help you right now. I can get you in to see an excellent psychologist, one who has experience dealing with your particular trauma.” Before Seth could even think of protesting, Tom plowed on. “This is my one condition, Seth. I’m willing to have you back as Press Secretary, in fact there’s nothing I’d like more, but I have to know that you’re working towards recovery. Go to your first therapy session at least, then you can come back.”

Frustration welled up inside Seth- he’d been so close!- but from the look on Tom’s face, he knew that no amount of arguing would get him anywhere. Instead, he simply nodded. “I..I understand, sir. Thank you.” He didn’t feel grateful, but at least he had something to work towards now. One therapy session would be easy enough to get through, and then Seth would finally be able to get his life back on track.

...

...

...

Dinner tonight? Lyor and Aaron as well

Seth read the text from Kendra as he sat on the train, on the way home from his first therapy session. The President had clearly managed to pull some strings to get him in to see Dr Bigatton the day after their meeting, but Seth wasn’t complaining- it meant that he could start back at the White House tomorrow. Seth frowned at the message. He couldn’t say that he was keen for company that night, he was still smarting from having to explain to the therapist exactly what he’d gone through, but shutting out his friends didn’t exactly seem to be in the spirit of ‘recovery,’ and that was what today had been all about, right? Sounds good, he texted back.

Look at that, Mr President, Seth thought. He was improving already. Ha.

Seth got home and made a half hearted attempt at cleaning the mess that had accumulated over the last few days. He only got as far as dumping some old Chinese takeout boxes and crumpled beer cans in the trash before giving up. They’d been to his apartment before, they’d seen the state it was in. A bottle of scotch was sitting alone on his coffee table and Seth picked it up, watching the mesmerising swirl of amber liquid as his tilted it this way and that. He’d really done a number on this bottle the last few nights; there was only a quarter or so left. Seth tightened the cap and tucked it into the back of the kitchen cabinet with the rest of his liquor. Best not to leave it out in the open like that- Kendra would scold him if she realised how much he was drinking. Lyor would probably just pour it down the drain.

Unhealthy coping mechanism, that’s what Dr Bigatton had called it when Seth had mentioned his drinking to her. Seth thought it was more unhealthy to be so paralysed by memories of being held down and beaten that he couldn’t sleep, because the only thing that made the thoughts quiet down was booze, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “I only drink when I need to.”

She had smiled, lipstick-red mouth like a bloody gash against her tanned skin. “We’ll work on better ways of handling intrusive thoughts in our next session,” she said.

‘Intrusive thoughts’ was another term she’d thrown around. Nightmares, flashbacks, mood swings, intrusive thoughts- all very common experiences for people who’ve suffered trauma, she said. It was funny actually. It wasn’t until Seth heard everything he’d been feeling categorised, listed as ‘symptoms,’ that it really sunk in that what he’d been through was something that actually did happen to people. Before, it had felt almost like a waking nightmare, or some crime drama movie plot come to life, but now apparently his experience was ‘common’ for people who’ve been...tortured. He’d never actually called it that before. He tried out the label in his head. Seth Wright: Torture Victim. 

Torture Survivor, Dr Bigatton probably would have corrected him. But for once, Seth couldn’t care less about semantics.

A knock on the door pulled Seth out of his thoughts, and he opened it up to be greeted by the faces of Kendra, Lyor, and Aaron. They all sidled past him into the warmth of his living room, Aaron holding up two bulging takeout bags as he walked in. “Indian,” he clarified. Aaron’s presence during the last ten days and at the hospital had been a pleasant surprise. Seth had probably spent more non-work related time with his friend in the last four weeks than he had in the two years since Aaron had been made National Security Advisor. It was nice, but Seth suspected that it was because Aaron felt guilty.

Guilty enough, apparently, to willingly spend time with Lyor Boone. Seth knew the two of them weren’t exactly friendly, but there they were, helping Kendra dig out plates and cutlery with little complaint. Seth couldn’t deny that he found it hilarious to watch Lyor wind Aaron up though, so he was more than grateful. 

Containers of food laid out on the table between the four of them, they began to eat. Seth heaped curry onto his plate; he hadn’t eaten much in the last few days, cooking or even ordering takeout feeling like too much effort, but with the food right in front of him, Seth was ravenous. “So Seth,” Aaron broke the comfortable silence of people enjoying food, “I hear you’re coming back to work tomorrow.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. The President said it was fine, so...”

Lyor paused between mouthfuls of food to look at him, his raised fork dripping sauce onto his plate. “Is that a good idea?” he asked, in a way that sounded like he very much thought it wasn’t. Seth heard the distinct sound of Kendra kicking him under the table. “Ah!- I mean, that sounds like a great idea,” Lyor hurriedly continued, but there was still a furrow of discontent on his face. Seth took a bite of naan bread to avoid answering. Lyor’s words had touched a sore spot. What if he wasn’t ready? What if working didn’t help how he was feeling? No, no, it had to. Seth needed to do this.

“How’s Campbell doing?” Seth asked after the table fell into a semi-awkward silence. Stanley Campbell was the staffer next-in-line to be Press Secretary in the case of a long absence on Seth’s part. He’d taken over from Lyor after Seth was found, when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to cover for Seth as well as be the Political Advisor in the amount of time Seth would be gone for. He was a good guy, a little overconfident but smart, and Seth was sure he’d left his position in good hands. Although, judging by the way Lyor’s expression was darkening, maybe not. “He’s incompetent!” Lyor burst out, and Kendra and Aaron groaned simultaneously, apparently familiar with his complaints. “I don’t know why you didn’t fire him ages ago. He’s an embarrassment to the administration-“

“We know,” Aaron grumbled, “you haven’t shut up about it for two weeks!”

“I always thought Campbell would make a great Press Secretary,” Seth said, bewildered, and Kendra rolled her eyes. “Campbell’s fine,” she told him. “This is just Lyor’s way of saying he misses you.” Lyor huffed, but didn’t disagree. 

The others could tell that Seth was feeling antsy, so they left not long after dinner. The guys walked out ahead, but as Kendra reached the door she paused and turned to face Seth. She smiled at him, large and warm, and Seth couldn’t help but smile back.“See you tomorrow, then.” she said. Seth swallowed- now that it was actually happening, going back to work seemed almost as terrifying as hearing the door open in that basement. But Seth kept smiling, not wanting Kendra to see his doubt.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, three guesses as to how Seth going back to work is going to go...


	13. Chapter 13

Seth smoothed down his tie as he cut through the hustle and bustle of the West Wing corridors, realising belatedly that his palms were slick with sweat and hurriedly wiping them down on his trouser leg. First day jitters, a voice said in his head, and Seth nearly laughed at the thought. He didn’t have any reason to be nervous- this was his job, after all. It’s not like he’d lost his groove after four weeks away.

Somebody slammed bodily into Seth’s shoulder as they rushed past him, and he felt a scream build up at the back of his throat. He held it back, breathing through his nose as he continued to walk. Just another part of the job. The White House did seem so much louder than he remembered though, more aggressive, like a zoo with the lions running loose.

Seth saw the familiar backs of the rest of the Senior Staff on their way to the morning brief, and he sped up a fraction to catch up. Kendra moved aside to make room for him, giving him an encouraging smile, and Seth felt confidence ripple through him. This was going well- the sky hadn’t fallen down, and Seth hadn’t had a complete meltdown yet, or whatever it was the President seemed to think was going to happen. Walking to the Oval Office with the others, it almost felt just like before. The only thing that was different was the way Emily’s jaw had tightened when she saw him.

“Morning, Seth,” was all she said to him. Good, Seth didn’t particularly feel like talking to her either.

The President was waiting for them, and Seth fell into the comfortable routine of hearing the others inform Tom of the issues of the day. Luckily, it’d been an unusually slow week, and so Seth didn’t need much in the way of a catch-up. The others were handling most of the day’s going-ons anyway. Even so, just being there was miles more eventful than the time he’d spent doing nothing but sleeping and ruminating at home. Seth had to admit that it was a shock to the system. Nothing he couldn’t handle though. He had this. Completely in the bag...

“...as for the press briefing?” the President queried, looking at Seth expectantly, and Seth realised with a jolt that he’d let his thoughts drift off, the way they’d been doing so often the last few weeks. Shit, he couldn’t let that happen here. “Yes, uh, Campbell caught me up earlier, so I’m ready for the briefing,” Seth answered hurriedly, hoping nobody noticed his slip-up. No such luck. Lyor’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion and Emily looked almost exasperated. The President just looked concerned.

“I don’t think you should be doing this briefing,” Lyor said. He should have seen this coming from last night. Seth turned to him with a slight glare. “I just told you that I’m up to date. What’s the issue?” he asked sharply. Lyor raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Other than the fact that you just spaced out for a full minute?”

“It was a few seconds, Lyor. Stop being dramatic.”

“Believe me, the press are going to be a lot more dramatic than me if you slip up in front of them. It won’t exactly restore confidence in you.”

“What, and not showing up at all will?”

Emily spoke up, directing her words straight to the President, and Seth couldn’t help but gape a little. Really? She wouldn’t even speak to him now? “Sir, I agree with Lyor,” she said, “The press are going to ask questions about the kidnapping, and if Seth has a panic attack in front of them-“

“I’m not,” Seth could feel his face flushing, “going to have a panic attack. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak about me like I’m not here.” Emily at least had the decency to look vaguely subdued, but Seth ignored her and turned to Tom. Two could play at that game. “Sir,” he said, fighting to keep his voice level. “You brought me back to do my job, so let me do it.”

Tom steepled his fingers together, considering. “Go ahead with the briefing, Seth,” he finally acceded. “I trust you know what you’re doing.”

Seth smiled, a real smile this time. Finally, a win. “Thank you, sir.”

He could practically hear the grinding of displeasure in Lyor and Emily’s minds, but Seth couldn’t care less. He was done being treated like a child who didn’t know what was best for him. He stalked off to the press room as soon as they were dismissed, not sparing a backwards glance for the others. Seth hadn’t dealt with any journalists since being rescued, which was a surprise. He’d expected some of them, Tiffany maybe, to come sniffing around for scraps about what had happened. Seth was generally well respected amongst the press corps, though, so they must have collectively decided to give him the space he needed. But Seth knew that as soon as he stepped up to that podium he’d be fair game. 

All part of the job, Seth sternly reminded himself. No backing out now.

He stepped out to face the gathered journalists and immediately a hush fell over the room. Alright, dramatic entrance it was then. Seth did his best to flash a disarming smile before beginning to speak. “Hi, guys. I have to say, it feels good to be back up here again.” He skimmed his tongue across his lips before continuing. “Before we get started, I imagine you have some questions in regards to my absence the last few weeks. So I’m telling you now that as far as I’m concerned, what you’ve been told by Lyor Boone and Stanley Campbell is all that needs to be said, and I won’t be taking any further questions on the matter.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Seth powered on. “As you can see, I’m in good health, and I’m excited to get back to my job. Now, onto what’s currently happening..”

Questions trickled in slowly, as if the journalists were testing the waters, and gradually they started to increase. But there was still a tension in the room, as if everyone was collectively holding their breath. Seth knew he was the cause- he could hear the irritation that he used to be able to mask leak out of his voice as he answered, but god, had they always been this intolerable? He only had to get through a few more questions, then he could regroup, collect his thoughts. This wasn’t going as well as Seth would have liked, but it wasn’t a complete disaster-

“Does the White House have any comment on the status of James Williams?”

James Williams.

Williams.

A dull buzzing filled Seth’s ears as he shifted, tightening his grip on the podium until the wood bit into his palms. He hadn’t heard that name since his interview with Agent Wells, and it bounced around in his head, reverberating around the walls of his skull with an evil echo. He couldn’t even remember what the journalist had said, the only thing he could concentrate on was that damn name.

“I...sorry. Could you repeat the question?” Seth asked. He blinked rapidly, swallowed, braced himself.

“Can you comment on the status of James Williams?” the woman repeated. She was new, but good at her job. She wasn’t asking Seth directly about the kidnapping, so he couldn’t dodge around the question. “His trial is upcoming, isn’t it?”

“James Williams is still being held in FBI custody,” Seth said robotically, tongue heavy. “His trial is going ahead as scheduled. Alright, that’s all the time I have today.”

He could hear the press room erupt into noise as he practically bolted from the podium, but he didn’t have time to worry about that. He just needed to get out of there. He needed to breathe. Seth felt his heart hammering against his rib cage, and a wave of dizziness almost knocked him off his feet. Seth’s throat was closing up, his breath coming out in sporadic little gasps and fuck this is not what he needed right now.

“Seth!”

As if this nightmare couldn’t get any worse, Tiffany appeared in his field of vision, planting herself in front of him so he couldn’t ignore her. “It’s good to see you back.”

Seth blinked bright spots out of his vision, trying to keep himself steady as he stopped. “What do you want?” he growled. He didn’t have the energy to be civil.

Tiffany raised her hands defensively, but her eyes shone with a calculating gleam. “I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you handled yourself out there.” Her thin lips pulled into a cold smile as she scanned him up and down. “But, perhaps not.”

Seth opened his mouth, closed it again, decided not to bother. Tiffany looked like she’d gotten what she came for anyway. He stormed off- should he go to his office? A rolling bout of nausea quickly caused him to veer towards the bathrooms instead. Thankfully, the men’s room was empty when Seth stumbled inside, and he threw himself into the nearest stall, barely managing to turn the lock before dropping to his knees with a loud crack and throwing up into the toilet bowl. Seth gripped the ceramic feebly, eyes watering as his stomach heaved, emptying it’s contents- the egg he’d managed to make himself for breakfast- into the water. He panted wetly as the nausea subsided, sagging against the stall wall as his heart continued to pound out a flurried rhythm. 

Seth still couldn’t breathe. He felt like his lungs were shrinking, shrivelling up like wet tissue paper and all he could do was keep futilely sucking in more air. Slowly, slowly, Seth’s lungs began to expand again and he swallowed roughly, wincing at the taste of vomit coating his throat. There was a glob of saliva trailing down Seth’s chin and he viciously scrubbed it off with a handful of toilet paper, standing up on shaky legs to flush it away. 

One point to you, Emily, Seth thought sourly as he watched the paper get sucked away in the swirling vomit-water. At least the panic attack hadn’t happened in the press room, though Seth was sure Tiffany Gimble got an eyeful. A wave of hopelessness threatened to choke Seth, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pressure behind his eyes. This was supposed to be better, he thought bitterly. Going back to work, finally getting himself into a normal routine was supposed to make Seth feel like himself again, but he couldn’t even do a briefing without completely breaking down.

Maybe he was unfixable.

The thought rose from the deep, watery depths of Seth’s mind, where his darkest fears festered and grew. The idea had occurred to him before in brief flashes, brought on by too much booze or too long spent tossing and turning in the dark, but Seth had always pushed it back down. Work was supposed to fix him, but now he felt even worse than before, like another fissure had cracked through his fragile form, threatening to break him apart completely. Maybe this was all there was for him now.

Seth forced himself to unlock the toilet stall and step out. As appealing as the idea seemed, he couldn’t hide in there forever. There was another person standing by the sinks as Seth went to wash his hands. He was young, an intern probably, with eyes that looked too large for his head and a scrubby caterpillar moustache on his upper lip that he’d really be better off shaving. Seth didn’t recognise him, but judging by the shyly sympathetic looks Big-Eyes was shooting him, the kid knew who he was. And he’d definitely heard Seth throwing up in the toilet. Great.

Seth avoided eye contact, washing his hands as fast as he could. He was about to leave when the kid squeaked out a few words. “Hey, um, wait!”

Seth reluctantly turned around, watching as Big-Eyes clumsily dug around in his jacket pocket. With an awkward half smile, he pulled out a packet of breath mints, extending them out to Seth with a pudgy hand. “You might wanna, uh...” the guy trailed off as Seth scanned him suspiciously, his entire frame locked in tension. He backed away from the kid without a word, not missing the way his face deflated as Seth pushed through the bathroom door. The guy was just tying to be friendly, Seth knew- and he probably did need a breath mint after throwing up- but right now he felt as though any interaction would make the fragile veneer that he’d hastily constructed before stepping out of the stall snap. Besides, Seth didn’t trust the kindness of strangers anymore.

Seth trudged towards the original route heading to his office. The wariness radiating through him only grew stronger as he approached and spied a figure leaning against his desk. He knew what was coming for him, but as he reached the door to his office and saw Emily waiting inside, Seth realised that moment was sooner than he thought. Emily fixed a piercing look on him as he came in, her face a neutral blank. There were some times when Seth thought he preferred the way Emily had looked at him when they were dating- it had been anger more often than not, or condescending disappointment, but at least there was something there. It was better than this flat coldness.

“I saw the briefing,” she said. “It didn’t go well.”

And just like that, the mask crumbled. Seth snorted. No shit. “Yeah, well, it went better than the last time I was in front of a camera.” He bit out sardonically, and tried not to feel too pleased when he saw her flinch.

Emily continued on, but there was an undercurrent of emotion in her voice that wasn’t there before. “You thought you were ready to come back, but obviously you aren’t. From now on, I don’t want you interacting with the press.”

Seth stared at her. “I’m the Press Secretary, Emily, what else am I supposed to do?”

Emily stared right back, unrelenting. “You’re free to write up statements, but you can’t read them out.”

Seth blinked, let her words settle between them. “So you’re demoting me.”

“This isn’t just me, Seth,” Emily snapped, and Seth felt another jab of satisfaction at getting a rise out of her. “The President agrees with me. We can’t have a Press Secretary who’s-“

“A basket-case?” Seth ran a hand over his face agitatedly, feeling like the world was cracking apart at his feet.

Emily sighed. “I wasn’t going to say that.” she murmured.

“No, but you thought it, right?” Seth said with a biter laugh. “That’s what you’ve been thinking ever since I was brought to the hospital. That I’m broken. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me!”

Emily’s eyes were wide, in near panic. “I haven’t been-“ she protested, but Seth cut her off with another laugh, shaking his head. “Hey, it’s fine. I get it. You don’t want to deal with me. Hell, I don’t want to deal with me either, but you could at least be fucking honest about it!” His words ended on a yell, his voice trembling with an edge of hysteria- Seth hoped he didn’t start crying. 

“I see that look in your eyes, Emily,” Seth continued. “You saw what they did to me. And now...now that’s all you can see when you look at me.” 

“Seth..” Emily’s voice was the thread of a whisper.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” Seth challenged her. Emily opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say died in her throat, and she snapped her jaw shut, eyes sinking to the floor.

“That’s what I thought.” Seth muttered. He walked around her to reach his chair, collapsing down into it and straightening the papers on his desk. He didn’t bother looking up as he heard Emily’s footsteps leave the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily had a hard choice to make, and I think she made the right one, but my god she could have handled it better. Which, honestly, is a good summary of her character.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide attempt

There was a potted plant sitting on the windowsill of Dr Bigatton’s office. Seth wasn’t sure what type of flower it was- he thought maybe lilies- but whatever they were, the sunset-orange blossoms added a splash of colour to the otherwise mellow pastels of the room. The gentle blue of the walls was probably supposed to calm patients, but it never worked on Seth. He kept his eyes fixed on the flowers. Looking directly at Dr Bigatton as he bared his soul felt far too intimate; Seth preferred the barrier.

“How’ve you been this week, Seth?” His therapist probed. Seth was silent for a few moments as he considered the question. The last week since his first day back at work had been hell. Emily, true to her word, had barred him from the press room, so Seth had been stuck drafting statements. It was something to do at least, but Seth found himself distracted by the nonstop movement and sound of the White House, or having his thoughts drift more often than not, so he found himself spending most of his energy on just staying on task. Seth should have known, really, that his problems with concentration wouldn’t magically disappear the day he returned to work, but he was finding it harder and harder to manage them at all.

More than anything though, being at work was a constant reminder of how messed up Seth really was. Everything, from having to watch the other Senior Staffers carry on with their normal jobs while Seth was stuck on desk duty, to being constantly bombarded by looks of mingling pity and discomfort from the strangers around him, left Seth feeling utterly useless. Going to the White House at all was a chore- Seth only kept it up for appearance’s sake. As the days went on, he could feel himself slipping further into the despair that had swamped him while he was crouched in that bathroom stall, grounding him down every passing moment. He barely talked to the others, and had stopped accepting Kendra’s offers of dinner completely- he couldn’t bear to watch his friend’s futile efforts at cheering him up when he knew they wouldn’t work.

“It hasn’t been great,” Seth admitted, tracing the shape of each petal on the windowsill flowers with his eyes. “I had a panic attack the first day back at work and now they keep happening. It was never like this before.” The panic attacks would come out of nowhere- Seth could be taking out his trash or making coffee in the break room when his chest would seize up and the only thing running through his head would be that he was about to die, for no reason at all. 

“Going back to work is a major stressor. The increased panic attacks are likely because of that. Have you been using the technique we discussed?” Dr Bigatton had told Seth to try and focus on his breathing during an attack; breathing in deeply, counting to four, and then exhaling again, to stop himself from hyperventilating and ground his thoughts. Seth shrugged. “Sometimes. It doesn’t always work.”

“How are you sleeping? Nightmares?”

Seth huffed out a humourless laugh. “No, actually, because I’ve barely been able to sleep at all since you put me on Prozac.” The therapist had prescribed Seth with antidepressants after their first session, but the only changes Seth had noticed so far were bouts of insomnia and occasional migraines. So now he could be depressed while sleep deprived. Brilliant.

“Insomnia is a common side effect of antidepressants. If it doesn’t improve within a week, we’ll look at changing your medication.” Dr Bigatton said, and Seth saw her scribble down a few notes in her pad out of the corner of his eye. Seth sighed, focused on the slender green stem, bowing against the weight of the flowers. 

With nothing to do at night now but think, Seth had found his thoughts creeping into places he didn’t like. They tangled amongst his emotions like a spreading infection, periodically dragging Seth out of numbness and into brewing anger. It had reached a boiling point after his first day back at work, since that journalist brought up James Williams. Since then, the man had been on his mind constantly. When his thoughts drifted, or while fruitlessly trying to sleep, Seth couldn’t stop thinking about him. Just the image of him, sitting comfortably in FBI custody instead of lying dead in some hole, made Seth want to start screaming and never stop. It was so goddamn unfair, that even after finally getting away from him, Seth still couldn’t get Williams out of his mind.

“It’s not...it’s not just the insomnia. Or the panic attacks. I..” Seth was always good with his words, but right now he felt at a loss. “I’ve just been feeling so...empty. And pissed off, at everyone and everything. My friends, work. I never feel like myself anymore.” Seth fully looked at his therapist for the first time that session. “I need you to tell me how to fix myself.”

Dr Bigatton sighed a little, setting her pen and pad on the arm of her chair as she leaned forward, hands clasped together in earnest. “Seth,” she said gently, “it’s not as simple as you just fixing yourself. It takes time. You need to let yourself face what you’re feeling. All you’ve been doing is running away from what’s happened to you, but what you really need to do is confront it. That’s the only way you’ll be able to accept it and eventually move on.”

...

Seth couldn’t get Dr Bigatton’s words out of his head as he headed to the White House. He hadn’t thought of himself as running away from what happened before. Seth had seen it as picking himself up and moving on instead of letting himself drown under the horror of what he’d been through- he’d been trying to feel normal again. But Seth couldn’t deny that everything had only gotten worse the more he tried to push it down. The thought of taking a real look at the seething, quivering mass of rage and hurt and fear inside him made Seth want to slam the brakes, then curl up in a ball and stay like that forever. But Seth was sick and tired of feeling afraid. He needed to confront his fear.

He needed to confront Williams.

The thought had slyly presented itself to Seth and immediately seized his attention. Seth wanted to stand in front of Williams, see him in handcuffs, tell him to his face that, in the end, he’d fucking lost. Seth was flying high on exhilaration as he made his way towards Hannah Wells’ Office. He’d been so angry for so long, and now he could finally let it out at the person who really deserved it. He stalled his excitement long enough to hammer on the office door, and burst in as soon as he heard Wells’ voice saying he could enter, ignoring the nerdy looking guy seated in front of one of the computers as he strode up to Hannah’s desk.

Hannah looked surprised at the sight of Seth in her office, but inclined her head in greeting anyway. “Seth, what can I do for you?” she asked. Seth didn’t waste any time.

“You can get me in to see James Williams.” It wasn’t a question- at this point Seth didn’t think he’d be able to take no for an answer. Hannah’s brow furrowed at his words, and her words were drawn and slow as she replied. “He is in FBI custody still. But, Seth, we don’t just let civilians walk in and chat with terrorists.”

“I’m not just any civilian,” Seth reminded her pointedly, “I’m the guy he tortured for three days. Can’t you bend the rules this once?” Before she could answer, Seth continued, voice low and pleading. “Please, Hannah, I need to do this.” His eyes were wide and bright with sincerity. “I need closure.”

Closure seemed like something that Hannah would understand. She was silent, staring Seth down as her face clouded in thought. Eventually, she gave a firm nod. “Alright, I might be able to pull some strings.” Seth almost sagged in relief. Over by the computer, the guy Seth had ignored earlier straightened in his chair, eyes wide. “How are you going to do that?” he spluttered.

Hannah gave him a sidelong glance as she stood up. “Don’t worry, Chuck.” she said, “Forestall still feels guilty for what happened with the First Lady. I’m sure he’ll be willing to overlook this, as a favour.”

...

Five minutes, Hannah had told him. That was all the time she could wrangle, but for Seth it was enough. Seth clenched and unclenched his unbroken fist as the guard unlocked the interrogation cell that Williams had been moved to. He wasn’t afraid, Seth told himself over and over as the door buzzed open and he was ushered inside. He was angry- that’s what he had to hold onto.

Williams was hunched over the metal table he’d been seated at with his head bowed, studying his cuffed hands with keen interest, as though he hadn’t been in custody for nearly a month now. Once the door sealed shut, Williams finally glanced up. Seth had seen his face once before when he‘d been grabbed on the street, but Williams had been shrouded in darkness, and Seth’s memories of the event were fuzzy. But now, under the harsh fluorescent light, Seth couldn’t help but marvel at how...normal he looked. There was no villainous scar, or anything else Seth had subconsciously imagined to be under that balaclava. Williams was young, handsome even, with a scattering of freckles across his dimpled cheeks. He looked like the kind of guy Seth would smile at as he passed him on the street, or maybe even flirt with if they met in a bar. The thought chilled Seth to his core.

Williams looked puzzled as he registered that it wasn’t an FBI agent entering the room, before his expression bloomed into a broad smile of recognition. Seth felt sick at the sight of it- he wasn’t supposed to be happy, a voice in Seth’s head screamed. Williams shouldn’t even be able to look him in the eye.

“Seth Wright, in the flesh!” Williams crowed. “I did not expect to see you again!” Seth furiously worked his throat as he stared down at his former captor, struggling to keep the animal panic that had risen up at the sound of Williams’ voice from showing on his face. Remember the anger, Seth reminded himself. He was the one in control here.

“Not very comfortable, are they?” Williams’ tone was companionable as he showed off his cuffed wrists, the chain clinking against the surface of the table. “Your wrists must have been hurting something awful. Sorry about that.”

Seth had to take a moment to process what he was hearing. “Sorry?” he hissed. “Fuck you, you aren’t sorry.” Seth took a step closer to the table, breathing heavily. “You aren’t sorry,” he repeated, “because...because you’re a monster.” Williams didn’t respond, simply watched Seth, snakelike, radiating cool curiosity. Seth wondered if he’d look so calm with a gun to his head, or a knife cutting into his flesh. Seth wondered if Williams would beg as he had his head thrusted into a bucket of water again and again and again-

Seth turned away, unable to look at Williams any longer. He should have planned this better, should have thought of exactly what he was going to say. But really, what could he say? He could hear Williams shuffling in his seat behind him- Seth couldn’t see him, but he could imagine the smug smile playing on his lips. Seth wasn’t a violent guy, but right now he wanted nothing more than to beat his face into a bloody, unrecognisable pulp. “All of this is wrong,” he muttered, more to himself than Williams.

“Oh?”

Seth spun around. “This,” he spat, gesturing at Williams’ shackled form, “is wrong. Why the hell are you alive? You should have been shot dead, like Morales. You should be rotting in the ground.” Seth’s eyes burned hot with fury as the words poured out of his mouth. “After everything that you’ve done, you’re the one should be suffering. Not me!”

Seth’s shoulders were shaking as he stood over the table. Williams gazed up at him, unblinking, and as Seth watched on in horror, he began to laugh, sharp, breathy cackles that rang through the room. This whole situation was rapidly slipping out of Seth’s control, and he unconsciously took a frantic step back as Williams shook with laughter.

“Shut up!” Seth exploded. “Stop fucking laughing!”

Williams held his cuffed hands up in a warped gesture of peace, shaking his head as he clamped down on his chuckles. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wheezed.” He laughed once more before meeting Seth’s wide eyes, face shadowed with dark mirth. “Maybe I should be dead,” he said, “but what difference would it make?” His words were razor sharp as he continued. “Why are you here, Seth? Really, I mean? What, you came to gloat, because I’m the one in cuffs now, and you got out? Because I’m looking at you now, and I don’t see a guy who’s made it out the other side. I see a man who’s broken.”

Seth was frozen on the spot as Williams spoke, his words fusing themselves in Seth’s mind like sticky tar oozing from his lips.

“Yeah, I can see that look in your eyes,” Williams crooned, “I had the same look in mine when I came back from Afghanistan. Sure, your President might have sent his dogs in there to whisk you away before you died, but...” he shook his head, “You sure as hell aren’t living.”

Seth snapped out of his trance, backing away and banging on the locked door with his heart hammering in his throat. Williams rumbled with laughter again behind him. The door buzzed open and he stumbled out, nearly knocking straight into Hannah. Her eyes widened as she took in his grey face. “Seth,” she urged him, “whatever he said to you, you can‘t let it get to you, okay?”

Seth just shook his head. “Take me home.” he rasped.

...

Hannah drove Seth home. She might have tried to talk to him, but Seth didn’t know, too caught up in the heaving horror spreading through every inch of him like some formidable, unstoppable tidal wave. I see a man who’s broken. The words were imprinted in Seth’s brain, written in bold every time he closed his eyes. In between shallow breaths, he could hear Williams’ laughter echoing around him. Hannah had warned him not to listen to Williams’ words, but Seth couldn’t shake them, not when they were true.

Hannah pulled in front of his apartment and Seth stumbled out without so much as a thank you. She didn’t follow him, just drove off, and Seth placed one leaden foot in front of the other, dragging himself up the stairs and through his door, not bothering to lock it behind him. Broken, busted, unsalvageable, that’s what he was. Seth had known deep down from the start, but now, after his performance at work and talking with Williams, it was more clear than ever. 

He needed alcohol. Seth reached wildly into the kitchen cabinet where he kept his liquor, grabbing the first one his hand came across and taking a desperate swig straight from the bottle . He couldn’t read the label, his eyes blinded with tears. Everything from the last month was surging up and sweeping over him in wave upon wave of misery. The gut-wrenching dread of waking up in that room which had never gone away, had fused into the very essence of him. All the pain- the beating, the jolting shocks of the taser, the knife cutting deep into Seth’s skin and leaving behind scars that would forever mark him for what he was, the endless burning of gasping lungs as he was drowned like an unwanted mutt. The way his mind shrieked when someone touched him, the rolling apathy that trapped him in his home, and the fucking terror that was always with him- god, Seth could barely even take a shower!

Seth couldn’t even do his job without having a complete meltdown. He remembered the faces of the reporters as he fled from the press room- the looks were the worst, from everyone. His father looked at him like he didn’t even know who he was, and Emily- she couldn’t even look at him at all because she knew. She knew that he’d been ruined. Kendra didn’t look at him like that. She looked at him with endless compassion and concern, as if there was still something left in him to save. She didn’t realise the truth.

The alcohol burnt a path down Seth’s throat as he swallowed, but he kept drinking. He wanted to forget who he was, who he’d become. The booze could only do so much, though. Seth knew that when he woke up tomorrow this never ending nightmare would begin again. He toppled through his apartment, not knowing where he was going until he ended up in the bathroom. Seth’s eyes fixed on the mirror. There he was; cheeks blotchy from crying and drinking. The scar on his lip twitched, mocking him, and Seth collapsed to his knees with a sob, the bottle slipping from his fingers and rolling away from him in a spray of liquid.

Seth was broken, broken, broken. He’d been chewed up and spit out and now he could never be put back together again. Back in that room, a part of Seth had been cut out of him and dropped on the cold stone ground, left to wither up and leech into the floor like a bloodstain. Seth knew now- all the anger he’d thrown at Tom, at Emily, at Williams, it had all been meant for him because he’d always known. He would never be the same.

Seth fumbled for the alcohol, running his fingers across the sopping wet floor until they brushed up against- not the bottle, but something else. He’d knocked a bunch of clutter off the sink as he fell, and as Seth peered through the sheen of tears he realised that he was holding his Prozac bottle, full to the brim.

His life was in tatters, Seth thought dully. What was the point.

What was the fucking point.

-

Kendra could feel a pair of eyes watching her, and she looked up from her desk to see Lyor reclining against her doorway silently. Creepy little weirdo, she thought fondly. Kendra had grown closer to Lyor over the last month, mostly because out of the people she interacted with on a daily basis, he was the only one she could have proper conversation with about Seth- Emily always had ‘important work to do’ whenever his name came up.

“Heading home?” Kendra asked as she sorted the files on her desk into somewhat manageable piles. “I think so,” he replied, peering at her over his glasses. “You?”

“In a bit. I just need to-“ she was cut off by her phone buzzing on her desk. “Typical,” she rolled her eyes, flashing Lyor an apologetic smile as he shrugged. It was a phone call from Seth, which wouldn’t usually bother her, except that he’d barely said a word to her since coming back to work. “Hey Seth,” she greeted into the phone, but the other end of the call was a wall of silence, punctured only by the occasional crackle of breath. Kendra frowned, her worry deepening. 

“Hello?” she tried again, and Seth’s voice warbled down the line in a broken whisper. “Kendra,” he sniffled, and Kendra realised with a jolt that he was crying. Drunk too, judging by the slurred sound of his voice. “Yeah, it’s me, Seth. What’s wrong?” Lyor perked up at that, head cocked in concern, and Kendra shrugged helplessly in his direction as the call filled with muffled breathing again.

“I fucked up,” Seth mumbled suddenly, “I really fucked up, Kendra. I’m so-“ Kendra heard a sob. “I-I’m so sorry.”

“What did you do, Seth?” Kendra demanded, tone increasing in alarm. “Put it on loudspeaker,” Lyor urged, now standing by her desk, but she shook her head mutely. Seth sounded so fragile, she couldn’t bear to expose him to anyone else. “I thought I could do this.” Seth breathed. “I thought I could but I c-can’t. I’m sorry, Kendra.”

Kendra felt as though she’d just been dunked in an icy river. “Seth, where are you?”

“I- um...Home. I’m home.”

Kendra pulled the phone away from her ear, eyes snapping to Lyor. “Call an ambulance to Seth’s apartment,” she demanded. Lyor’s eyes went wide as he connected the dots and frantically scrabbled around for his phone. “Seth? We’re coming straight to you,” Kendra said, grabbing her bag and sprinting from her office with Lyor hot on her heels, “don’t do anything else, alright?” There was no answer on the other end, not even the sound of crying. “Seth? Are you still there?” Still nothing. Oh god.

Kendra’s heart was pounding from exertion as they reached her car but she couldn’t stop to take a breath, jumping into the front seat and peeling off from the car park with Lyor rambling into his phone next to her. 

“....There’s a suicide attempt happening at...”

“...no, I don’t know, I’m not there....”

“...Christ, yes! I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just send an ambulance!....”

Kendra and Lyor leapt from her car, barrelling up the stairs of Seth’s apartment block. They both slowed, however, when they saw Seth’s door hanging slightly ajar. It was better for them, since neither had a key, but the sight was more than a little ominous. Kendra swung the door open and they stepped into the darkness of the apartment. “Seth?” Kendra called out as Lyor switched the lights on. The place was a mess; empty beer cans strewn across the carpet and and a stack of filthy dishes piled high in the sink. Kendra picked her way through the debris, a bolt of panic lancing through her as she was answered with heavy silence. She rushed over to where she knew Seth’ s bedroom to be, peering in through the doorway, but it was empty. Seth wasn’t on the bed, and a cursory glance confirmed that he wasn’t anywhere on the floor. Just as she pulled away from the entrance, Lyor’s flat voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Kendra.”

He sounded tightly wound, as if he’d said her name without any air in his lungs. A trickle of cold fear running down her spine, Kendra sidled up beside where Lyor stood still at the bathroom door.

Seth was crumpled on his side across the white tiles, an orange bottle of prescription pills lying inches away from his good hand and a half empty bottle of vodka tipped over on the floor beside him. A puddle of rancid vomit pooled out around Seth’s head, matting into his beard and mixing with the spilled vodka, and Kendra could make out little white clumps of pills floating around in the mess. Seth was still. Too still.

“Oh my god,” Kendra choked out. “O-oh my god!” She stumbled past Lyor, who seemed frozen in place, and dropped to her knees beside Seth’s lifeless form, not caring about the vomit soaking into her dress. She snatched up his limp wrist and pressed two shaking fingers against it. Please, god, please don’t let him be dead, Kendra prayed wordlessly. His skin was warm beneath hers, but as she squeezed his skin, she couldn’t feel anything. No, no, no- there had to be something, something...

...and there, beneath her touch, was a pulse- thready and faint, but unmistakeable. Now that she was up close, Kendra could also make out the shallow rise and fall of her friend’s chest as he breathed. She could have collapsed from relief.

“He’s alive,” she gasped a sigh of relief that morphed into a sob. “Thank god. Help me, Lyor-“

Lyor snapped into action, propelling forward and sinking down next to Kendra. She had to put a steadying arm on his shoulder when he skidded in the slick vomit, her mouth taut in silent horror. Lyor propped open Seth’s mouth and gingerly checking for any remaining vomit clogging up his airway, unable to disguise his wince as chunks of sick pulled away on his hand. Mercifully, the piercing wail of sirens screeched into the street outside right at that moment, quickly followed by the heavy footfalls of paramedics lumbering up the stairs. Two burly looking men pushed through the door with a stretcher between them, cutting straight through the filthy apartment and hurrying them out of the way with a curt, “move aside please.” Kendra couldn’t get her legs moving and she stayed crouched by Seth’s side until Lyor gently pulled her up and shuffled them out of the bathroom and away from the paramedics. 

Kendra allowed herself a moment to press her face into an unprotesting Lyor’s shoulder, letting the fabric of his shirt soak up the silent tears that she could feel trailing down her cheeks. She didn’t usually like to appear this vulnerable in front of other people, but the sight of Seth lying there- the knowledge of what he’d done- had stripped clean through her defences. She could hear the quiet murmur of voices as Lyor answered the paramedics’ questions. Kendra was grateful that he took over so she could let the shock of adrenaline coursing through her wear off.

Only for a few moments, though. As the EMTs lifted Seth onto the stretcher and began to carry him across the room to the door, she pulled away, wiping the remnants of moisture from her face. “I’ll go with them,” Kendra told Lyor, who looked frightfully pale. “You head back to the White House and...tell the others. Here,” she dug her car keys out of her purse and proffered them to him. “Don’t drive it into a ditch, okay?” Kendra joked weakly, and Lyor gave her a stiff nod.

Kendra trailed after the EMTs down the stairs as Lyor slipped into the kitchen to wash his hands away from the horror show that was the bathroom. The paramedics loaded Seth into the back of the ambulance, and Kendra clambered in behind on wobbling legs- the paramedic at the back offered her a helping hand and a reassuring smile that Kendra was unable to return.

The ambulance set off, sirens howling through the night air, and Kendra held Seth’s limp hand so tight she suspected she’d have trouble letting go.

She couldn’t lose him. Not again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t kill me


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here on out it’s almost all sweet, sweet comfort

The pungent scent of sterile cleanliness assaulted Seth’s nose as soon as he woke up. He recognised the telltale smell of a hospital instantly, and he couldn’t help but grimace as he breathed it in. Why was he there, anyway? He remembered going home after seeing Williams, drinking, and then....oh.

Seth shifted on the mattress when he noticed someone slumped in the chair beside his bed. It was Kendra, her fingernails digging pink creases into her cheek as she supported her dozing head with her hand. Seth thought she would look peaceful in sleep, but even now there was a furrow in her brows, and her eyes looked red and raw from crying. Oh god; Seth felt guilt settle like a stone in the pit of his stomach. He had done this to her.

The creaking of his hospital bed shook Kendra out of sleep, and she blinked blearily a few times before bolting upright in the chair. “You’re awake!” Kendra exclaimed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How long have you been up?”

Seth felt a creeping fondness wrap itself around his heart. Only Kendra would apologise for falling asleep when he was the reason she was there in the first place. “I only just woke up,” he reassured her. For a few moments they just gazed at each other, Seth drinking in the sight of Kendra sitting at his bedside and Kendra seemingly not knowing quite what to say.

Seth finally broke the silence, dropping his eyes to the crisp sheets. “I’m sorry,” he said, but Kendra shook her head, eyes suddenly glassy. “You’re sorry?” She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “God, don’t be sorry. I should be the one apologising. I had no idea...you know you can talk to me, right? About anything. If you ever feel...like you have to do this, you can tell me. You aren’t alone, Seth.”

“Please don’t blame yourself,” Seth whispered. Kendra’s eyes were welling up, and he reckoned that if she started crying then he would as well. Seth had done enough crying for a lifetime. “I didn’t even know I was going to do it until it happened. Please, Ken.”

Kendra’s eyes were still swimming a little, but she managed a smile. “I’m- we’re all just happy you’re okay.” she sighed.

Seth did feel mostly fine, actually, which surprised him. A bit nauseous, but compared to how he felt the last time he woke up in a hospital, that barely registered. Kendra seemed to read his thoughts because she continued on. “The hospital has to hold you for the next 72 hours to give you a psych evaluation, but physically speaking there wasn’t a lot of damage done.” Kendra squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and her voice shook slightly when she spoke again. “It’s lucky that you threw up when you were unconscious. It could have been a lot worse. Plus, we managed to get you to the hospital pretty quickly, so that helped.”

Seth sorted through the jumbled memories of last night. “I called you, didn’t I?” He asked, and Kendra nodded with a watery smile. “You did. Lyor and I went to your apartment as soon as you called. We found you in the bathroom-“ she sucked in a sharp breath, and Seth’s guilt surged up again. “Like I said, you were lucky.” Kendra finished haltingly. Luck, Seth considered- something told him that luck wasn’t all there was to it. A half-formed memory flickered at the back of his mind...

“I made myself throw up,” Seth remembered aloud, the events of the night before trickling back in a steady flow. There was the acrid sting of alcohol hitting the back of his throat, washing down the handful of pills, and then, as the corners of his vision began to blur, Seth had heard the echo of a voice.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Kendra had told Seth the first time she’d visited him in hospital, liquid brown eyes gazing down at him with so much love and relief that Seth’s heart had ached. He remembered the smell of his mum’s perfume as she’d hugged him, so tight it was like she was trying to leave a part of herself with him. Seth thought about his little brother, wide-eyed and voice trembling at the idea of leaving Seth behind. 

“I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.” Tom had said. He was proud of Seth for surviving, and now he was tossing his life away.

In an instant, Seth knew that he didn’t want to die. Continuing on the way he had been seemed almost unthinkable, but the thought of the grief that he would cause the people he loved was a million times worse, more painful than anything Williams had ever done to him. Seth couldn’t let them down. His head had felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool, and thinking clearly was getting harder and harder, but Seth had the strength still to force two fingers down his tightening throat. Hot sick surged up and coated his hand, and Seth had coughed fitfully as the vomit puddled around his head where he lay. All he could do then was grope blindly for his phone, instinctively dialling the number of the first person that came to mind...

Kendra blinked down at Seth as he slipped out of the memory. Seth fiddled with the bedsheets, unable to look at Kendra as he thought about what he’d nearly done to her. To everyone. “I couldn’t do it,” he admitted. “I couldn’t hurt all of you like that. I-I came so close, it was so stupid, but...I didn’t want to die. Not really.”

Seth still had his gaze fixed on his lap, but he could see a hasty movement out of the corner of his eyes, as if Kendra was wiping her eyes. “Seth,” she said, and he forced himself to look up at her.

Her smile was as warm as he remembered it. “Thank you,” was all she said.

Kendra looked as though she was about to say something else, but a yawn slipped out instead. She clapped a hand over her mouth as another one tried to force itself out as well. “Sorry,” she mumbled, blushing a little in a way that Seth found unexpectedly adorable. “I’ve kind of been up all night, so...”

“Go and get some sleep. In a real bed.” When Kendra pursed her lips in hesitation, Seth cracked a smile. “I’m not going anywhere. 72 hours, remember?”

His joke, feeble as it was, seemed to convince her, and she brushed the wrinkles out of her dress as she stood. “I’ll see you soon,” Kendra said, and it sounded like a promise. Seth felt his lids grow heavy as he watched her leave- Kendra mentioning sleep brought out his own drowsiness. Seth welcomed the oncoming rest. It seemed strange that nearly dying had such little impact, but Seth knew that he was still in the same place as he was before he swallowed those pills. Once he was released, Seth would still be a wreck; depressed, plagued by panic attacks, and unable to do his job. For even just a few hours, Seth wanted to forget what was waiting for him, so he let his eyes slip closed without a fight.

...

The shuffling of footsteps against the polished hospital floors pulled Seth out of sleep once again. Seth groggily cracked an eye open, expecting to see Kendra back again. But as the figure in his room swam into clarity, Seth realised that it was Lyor. The political advisor didn’t take the seat that Kendra left, instead standing over it with his hands clasped over the back, ramrod stiff.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever come to see me alone before,” Seth said, and Lyor’s head snapped down to face him, mouth opening a fraction in surprise- he obviously hadn’t realised Seth was awake. It was true; Lyor had always been accompanied by Emily, or more commonly, Kendra, even when they visited him at home instead of the hospital. Lyor’s lips curled into a half hearted smirk. “I’ve been told that I don’t have the best bedside manner,” he said.

Seth snorted. “You could say that.”

Lyor gazed blankly past Seth and out the window. The sky was powder-blue, without a cloud in sight. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. “The press hasn’t caught wind yet,” he said, sounding like he was addressing the whole room, even though Seth was the only other person there. “If we play our cards right, we should be able to pass this off as a minor medical issue. You won’t face too many questions.” That was a small mercy, but at the moment Seth was more focused on Lyor’s odd behaviour. His fingers were drumming out a frantic beat on the plastic back of the chair, and his eyes were unfocused as he stared out at nothing, as if he was watching something that only he could see.

Lyor remained like that- half there, half far away- for several long, lingering moments, to the point where the silence started to become slightly uncomfortable. Seth wondered if Lyor was angry- he could understand that. Hell, Seth was angry at himself. But, no, Seth had seen Lyor angry before; angry Lyor was kinetic, whipping about with restless energy that struck everyone in its path. Lyor at the moment was contained, folded inwards, unsure of himself. 

“Lyor and I went to your apartment,” Kendra had said. So Lyor had been there, found him with the pills. Had he really been shaken that badly? Seth had to admit, out of all the Senior Staff, he’d thought that Lyor would have been the least affected by his suicide attempt. He’d always been able to separate himself so seamlessly from the emotional element of a situation, far better than Emily had ever managed. But apparently it hadn’t worked this time, and Seth could see now how he was floundering with emotions that he wasn’t well equipped to deal with. In amongst Seth’s pooling guilt, he felt a sudden rush of affection for his friend. So, he really did care.

Interested to see how this would play out, Seth let the silence continue. Lyor wrenched his hands from the back of the chair and stuffed them deep in his pockets, seemingly coming to a decision. He narrowed his his intense focus to Seth- Lyor had a way of commanding attention that seemed to suck all the air out of the room. “People will probably tell you that, in time, you’ll go back to the way you used to be,” he said suddenly. “They’re wrong. You’ll never be the same person you once were.”

Seth knew that already, but hearing the words from someone else was like a punch in the gut. No bedside manner indeed. Lyor realised immediately that he’d messed up, and he hissed out a breath through clenched teeth before hurrying on.

“Different doesn’t mean broken, Seth. Change is how you know you’ve survived.”

Lyor let his words wash over Seth before finally settling down into the cramped chair, launching into a tangent about how goddamn irritating the press corps could be with an air of relief. He didn’t comment when Seth reached up and subtly swiped at his damp eyes.

-

“Seth Wright to see you, sir.”

Tom looked up from his laptop just in time to see Wyatt disappear through the door, leaving his Press Secretary standing alone at the entrance of the Oval Office. Seth looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his hair a mess and dressed in a rumpled Harvard sweater, but he was alive, and that’s all Tom could bring himself to care about.

The last four days hadn’t been as torturous as when Seth had been kidnapped- according to Kendra, the psychological evaluation had determined that the suicide was an impulse act that wouldn’t likely be repeated, so that was one less thing for Tom to worry about- but it was close. At least Tom knew that Seth was in safe hands since he’d started staying with Kendra. He’d wanted to go and see Seth himself, but Tom remembered well the simmering hostility that he’d sensed Seth holding in on the last occasions they’d spoken, and he thought it best to let Seth spend time with people he actually wanted to see. Now, though, Tom wasn’t getting that vibe at all. Rather, Seth just seemed tired.

“Seth, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Tom said by way of greeting. He had been planning on retiring to the Residency for the night, but now all those thoughts had flown out the window. “How are you doing?” Tom instantly regretted his words- that was probably the only thing the poor man had been asked in the last few days- but Seth seemed willing to humour him.

“I’m doing alright,” he shrugged. “Kendra’s apartment is a lot nicer than mine, so that’s been good.” Seth fell quiet, not giving any indication as to why he was there, and Tom felt his curiosity- and his concern- growing. He hoped this wouldn’t go in the direction that Seth’s last visit to the Oval Office had. 

“I hope you aren’t here to ask to come back to work?” Tom relaxed as Seth shook his head profusely. “Emily’s letting me take extended leave. Forcing me, actually, but I think it’s a good idea.”

If nothing else, Seth’s newest brush with death seemed to at least have shaken some sense into him, Tom reflected. It was a big turn-around though. A week ago, Seth had been practically begging to return. Looking back, Tom probably shouldn’t have said yes in the first place. But, honestly, he wasn’t sure how much of a difference it would have made. Whatever he’d said, Tom suspected that Seth had been barrelling down this road from the start. At least, now that he‘d reached this crossroads, he’d decided to take the safer path.

Seth shuffled his feet. “Actually...I came here to apologise.”

Tom frowned, slowly stepping out from behind his desk to come face to face with the other man- he had a feeling that this conversation wasn’t one to have with barriers between them. “Apologise?” he questioned. Seth nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. “I blamed you,” he admitted, voice thick. “For all of it. I know you did everything you could, but I just needed to be angry at someone.” Seth sighed, and Tom held his breathe, not wanting to interrupt. “And then, when I came back to work, I tried to pretend that everything was fine. But it wasn’t. And that just made it all worse, because I thought....I thought that I was ruined, and you’d just let it happen.”

All the anger that Seth was talking about had been sapped out of him- all Tom heard in his voice now was drained resignation. He was staring at the floor as he spoke, and with his hands clutching at the hem of his sweater, Seth at that moment looked every bit like a lost child. Words of comfort floated through Tom’s head, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. It felt far too poignant; as if a dam were about to break.

“He held a gun to my head,” Seth whispered, so softly it took Tom a second to realise he was speaking. “Before the first video. Acted like he was going to shoot me right then. He...he pulled the trigger, but it was empty. He was just trying to keep me in line. But I really thought it was over.” Seth sucked in a shaky breath. “After that, though, I never thought I was going to die, not really. Even after the beating, the knife, I was so sure- I was so sure that you would find some way to save me. I held onto that for as long as I could. B-but then, that last day- that was the first time since the gun that I thought I was gonna die. And you know what? I didn’t care.”

There were tears starting to roll down Seth’s face, Tom realised, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t dare break the spell. Seth ducked his head lower as if trying to hide them, but he was too far gone now to stop.

Seth’s voice wobbled as he continued. “I didn’t...I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted the pain to go away. A-and then, then I got out and I thought- finally, it’s over, it’s all over.” His shoulders were shaking and it was getting harder to understand what he was saying through the harsh sobs punctuating his speech. “It- it should have been o-over. B-but, god, it hasn’t ended. The pain, the fear....it won’t go away. I feel- I feel like I’m still there. Wh-when I don’t feel afraid, I just feel angry, or- or numb and I’m sick of it. I’m just s-so tired. I-I feel like I’m losing who I am and I don’t know how- I-I don’t know what to do-“

Seth’s voice broke, and he helplessly shook his head as wretched sobs spilled out of him at full force. Tom felt his heart tear at the sight of Seth’s shaking form. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to brush Seth’s arm, expecting the man to flinch or push him away, but Seth seemed to sag into his touch, practically collapsing into Tom’s arms and burying his face in Tom’s shoulder. Tom didn’t hesitate, swiftly pulling Seth’s quivering frame closer and wrapped his arms around him as Seth clung to his jacket. Everything about this was out of place, but Tom couldn’t give a damn about professionalism. Right then, he wasn’t the President, and Seth wasn’t his Press Secretary. Now, Seth was just a friend who needed comforting and by god, Tom was going to give it to him.

“It’s alright,” Tom soothed, feeling tears prickle at his own eyes as Seth shook against his chest. “It’s going to be alright, son.”

Tom didn’t know how long they stood like that, but eventually Seth’s sobs petered out into sniffles, and then further still into noiseless trembling. Tom gently manoeuvred Seth over to one of the couches and pulled him down beside him, snagging a box of tissues from his desk and handing them over wordlessly. Tom let Seth catch his breath and dry his tear-streaked face, and then, when he was sure Seth was ready to listen, he spoke.

“You’ve made it this far, and that’s all you need to do. That’s all anyone expects of you. Just keep surviving, even if it feels like there’s nothing to survive for. Eventually, you’ll stop just surviving and start living. And we’ll all be right here every step of the way.”

Seth didn’t respond, and Tom didn’t need him to. They sat there together, Tom listening to Seth breathing in, out, in, out, in.

Just surviving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left! (Oh, and an epilogue, but that’s separate)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, the final chapter!

The cold January air struck Seth like a whip as he stepped out of the warm confines of the train station. The day had barely thawed since that morning, and Seth buried his nose into the collar of his coat as he strolled down the familiar path back to Kendra’s apartment. Dr Bigatton had seemed pleased after their session today- “You’ve been making some great strides this past month,” she’d said to him. Seth couldn’t really see it, but according to Dr Bigatton, when it came to post-traumatic stress, sometimes patients weren’t able to see how far they‘d come until much further down the line. He supposed he should probably trust her professional opinion on this one.

Nevertheless, Seth had to admit that he was feeling pretty good. He usually felt drained after a therapy session, but today was different. Maybe it was his therapist’s encouraging words, or the crisp winter air, but Seth was pulsing with vibrant energy. Seth slowed to a more leisurely pace as he turned a street corner. The walk back to Kendra’s was really quite pretty, full of quaint little apartment complexes and street murals bursting with colour, and now that Seth was in the mood to appreciate it he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Up ahead, a man was approaching from the other end of the street. Heavy-set, fair skin, freckles. Seth felt his heartbeat quicken a fraction as the man came closer, but kept walking straight ahead, seeing how far he could push himself. The guy was only a foot away now- close, too close- and before they could pass by each other Seth veered off to the side, giving the man a dramatically wide berth. 

Seth didn’t pay much mind to the weird look the guy shot at him. That was closer than he’d gotten to a stranger two days ago. Maybe this was the kind of progress that Dr Bigatton was talking about.

Seth rounded the next street, seeing Kendra’s apartment building ahead. Seth often wondered why she bothered with a car when she lived so close to a train station, but he guessed she liked the independence. He understood that all too well. The foyer was cozily warm as Seth entered, like slipping into a warm bath, and Seth felt a smile spreading across his face as he bounded up the stairs, digging around in his coat pocket for the spare keys and unlocking the door. Once inside, he tugged his coat off and slung it across the back of the sofa, swivelling sharply on his heel to survey the empty apartment. What to do? Seth was still riding high on his good mood, and he was itching to put his mind to something. It was thrilling, actually wanting to do things for a change. Seth still found himself overcome by lethargy most days. Last week had been particularly dismal- Seth had ended up staying in bed for pretty much the entire seven days.

The beep of an incoming text message sounded from the pocket of the coat he’d tossed, and Seth fished out his phone. It was a message from Kendra:

Coming home early- yay! 

Seth’s eyebrows shot up in delighted surprise. The gruelling hours at the White House were really thrown into stark relief now that he was the one waiting at home. Half the time, he would already be asleep when Kendra got back. Seth would happily trade in his extra hours of sleep if it meant going back to being the Press Secretary, but...no. He’d been down this road already. Seth had to give himself more time, he knew that now.

But Kendra’s text had given him an idea of what to do, something that could drag his mind away from the uneasy feeling that always settled in Seth’s gut whenever he thought about work. He was going to cook dinner.

Excitement bubbled up as Seth headed into the kitchen. Cooking tended to be too much effort for him these days. If Kendra wasn’t home in time to make dinner, Seth would just order takeout or settle for cereal or a few slices of toast, or else heat up leftovers from the night before- Kendra would often make extra so he wouldn’t have to worry about food. Today though, Kendra would be the one walking in to a ready-cooked meal.

Seth inspected the contents of the fridge, frowning thoughtfully as he considered what to make. He had plenty of recipes memorised from days spent in the kitchen with his mother as a child, but Kendra wouldn’t be able to eat any of them with her vegetarian diet- the Wrights were a family of meat eaters, through and through. On the counter, Seth spotted Kendra’s battered old cookbook. He let the fridge door swing closed and picked it up, flicking through curiously. It had been well loved over the years, with the pages splattered with various sauce stains and the corners crinkled from use. A few recipes- Kendra’s favourites, Seth guessed- had been marked with green sticky notes. As Seth thumbed through each one, a particular recipe caught his eye. Under the post-it note, which had a smiley face drawn on it, was the name of the dish: minestrone.

Seth smiled as he remembered his first night at home. Kendra had turned up at his door with her arms full of shopping bags, refusing to let him go without eating, and cooked this for the both of them. It was one of the only happy memories Seth had of the first two months after his kidnapping, and the sight of the recipe now filled him with an unshakeable sense of comfort. It was perfect.

Seth pulled open the fridge again, hands instantly falling on the ingredients he needed. Luckily, Kendra kept her kitchen well stocked so everything in the recipe was already there. Dumping the vegetables on the counter, Seth dug through the pantry for the rest, and then pulled out a saucepan and a cutting board. He set to work preparing the vegetables. He went slowly, fixing his concentration on the garlic, then the onion, then the celery; focusing on the pressure of the knife agains his palm as he chopped. It was easier to keep his thoughts on task if he took things one at a time. Having the recipe open in front of him helped as well- Seth’s therapist said that having a list of what he needed to do would help him manage his concentration issues.

Preparations done, Seth brought the saucepan to a simmering heat, relishing the sizzle as he tipped in the heap of finely chopped vegetables. Seth couldn’t help the pride blooming in his chest as he watched the mixture cook. It was such a small thing to be proud of, but for Seth this was like making it to the end of a marathon he felt too exhausted to ever finish.

How pathetic, a little voice sneered in his head. Fuck off, Seth answered back resolutely.

Seth added in the stock, tomatoes, and pasta, stirring it together and putting the lid on the saucepan to let it cook. As he waited, Seth drifted into the living room adjoined to the kitchen. Kendra’s spacious apartment was like a breath of fresh air compared to his own cramped box. She even had a guest room, sparing Seth from having to live on the couch for the last month. Her living room was lovely, with a couch that didn’t reek of spilled beer, and a plush blue carpet that he could sink his toes into. Seth had fallen in love with the carpet in particular from the first moment he stepped inside. When he felt himself slipping into a vivid flashback, Seth used to stretch himself out on top of it, press his face into the thick wool and anchor himself to the real world, fight away the feel of cold stone beneath him.

One night, Kendra had walked in on him like that after returning from the White House and had screamed so loud the neighbours came to check on them. Seth used the couch instead now.

Seth heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Well, speak of the devil. Kendra was right on time as well, the minestrone would be ready by now. Kendra came through the door, cocking her head as she sniffed the air. An incredulous grin broke across her face as she watched Seth head back into the kitchen to take the soup of the heat. “You’re cooking.”

“Yep, dinner’s on me tonight. Guess what it is.”

“Mmm, minestrone,” Kendra sighed contentedly as she dropped her bag on the coffee table. “My favourite.”

Seth turned from the stove to flash her a smile. “I know,” he said.

Kendra made a move to join Seth in the kitchen, but he crossed his arms, blocking her way. “Nope, no helping.” Seth said sternly. “Your job is to sit down and relax,” he nodded to the table. “Go on.”

“Need I remind you that my job is literally the exact opposite of that?” Kendra teased, a twinkle in her eye. Seth shook his head. “Not tonight it isn’t. Now shoo, I need to serve this up.” Kendra acquiesced, sitting down at the table and watching Seth hurry to place down two placemats before rushing back to the kitchen. He emerged a minute later with a bowl in each hand, placing one down in front of Kendra with a flourish before sitting down opposite her.

Kendra’s eyes fluttered closed as she tasted the first bite. “This is so good,” she moaned, and Seth gave a flustered grin. “Thank you, Seth, this is exactly what I needed today.” She cracked her eyes back open and fixed him with a soft gaze. “You seem happy,” she observed, quieter.

Seth gazed right back. “I am,” he nodded. “I’m...I’m having a really good day.”

...

He should probably take a shower, Seth pondered, after he and Kendra cleared the dishes away- she wouldn’t be deterred from helping with the clean up. He hadn’t bothered last night, and he’d slept in that morning and skipped it. Seth left Kendra sitting on the couch with a quiet word and snagged some cozy clothes from his bedroom before approaching the darkened bathroom. 

Seth hovered outside the door, eyes fixed on the light switch. He’d been showering with the lights off ever since that first fateful shower he’d taken after leaving the hospital. Seth flicked his eyes anxiously to his shirt clad front and then back. Under his clothes, Seth could feel his scars itch- they felt like they’d come alive and were crawling across his skin. His hand hovered over the light switch, inching closer and closer, and then dropping heavily back to his side. 

Maybe tomorrow.

...

Seth ran a hand through his damp hair as he shuffled back into the living room. Sharp frustration hummed under his skin- still, even now, he couldn’t bring himself to look at his own body- and it must have been written across his face because Kendra had a tender, sympathetic look in her eyes as he slumped down beside her. She didn’t speak, just wordlessly extended an open hand across the couch cushion separating them. After a beat, Seth took it, felt the warmth of her palm leech into his as she squeezed his hand gently.

Lyor was right. Seth wasn’t the same man he had been before November the 17th, and he doubted he ever would be. Everything that happened had left a mark on his soul, moulding him into someone with sorrow hovering around every corner of his mind, someone who found anger quicker than ever before, someone who’s heart beat quicker when passing a stranger on the street. But that wasn’t all that was left to him. Seth had tasted happiness today, felt its honey-sweetness on his tongue, and maybe, if he was lucky, that’s what was waiting for him.

That night on his bathroom floor, Seth had made the decision to survive for the people he loved. Now though, today more than ever, Seth thought he was ready to try living for himself. Not just surviving. That was the easy part, he knew now. Living was the real struggle.

Seth laced his fingers tighter with Kendra’s and let his eyes drift shut, content.

He was up for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and we’re done!
> 
> This was my first ever multi-chapter fic, and it was an absolute thrill to write. Thank you to everybody who read and left kudos- it really means a lot to know you enjoyed this as much as I did.
> 
> A special shout out to MeredithBrody and Fibi94- your pain sustained me.
> 
> Tomorrow I’ll be posting the epilogue. It’ll be a one-shot added as the second part to the Not To Disappear series.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter we’ll be seeing things from the perspective of the rest of the Senior Staff. Strap in folks, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!


End file.
